Langsyne
by Bloody Fox
Summary: They would deny him his heritage, in turn he would deny them his hand against the Dark. Falling in love with Tom Riddle was never part of the plan, and fifty years later, it's unlikely that there is anything left of Tom within Voldemort to love him back.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All of the characters are property of their creator and owner. I make no monetary gains by writing this story.

Warnings: This story _is Slash_. That means guy on guy if you didn't know. There will be Slash within this chapter. Any scene will be isolated by a series of ' * ' . Also worth mentioning is that this will be a time-travel story, a creature fic, and a dark/evil Harry Potter.

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_**Heritage**_

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_There is hardly a man clever enough to recognize the full extent of the evil he does._

François, Duc de La Rochefoucauld

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**October 20, 1995, 11:00pm**

**One Mile off the coast of Azkaban**

It was easy to spot the island from his position at the bow of the boat, though the dips the vessel took when coming down from the crest of a wave made him lose sight of the massive prison. A slim crescent of moon hung in the sky, just barely enough to give them to go by. His crew, though family would be more accurate, waited quietly behind him in intense anticipation. Tonight was what they'd been planning for the last year. All for this moment, and hopefully - victory. They would be taking Azkaban, liberating it from the hold of wizards who didn't -and never would- understand what they held in their possession. The leader turned to face them, luminous gold eyes glowing even from the shadows of the cowl he'd drawn over his face. His eyes alighted on each of them, pausing moments longer on those closest to him.

"Within the hour we shall arrive and seize the island. We shall take back what belongs to us and ours, and no wizard shall stand in our way. Hold to your squads and do not deviate from mission parameters. Containment squads, with the leaving of the dementors your being put on active prisoner security. Don't let _any_ escape. You'll also be in charge of taking care of any Aurors we may take and putting them into cells separate from those of the actual criminals. Remember, as few deaths as possible."

The eyes of his audience grew bright, starting to light in various hues of crimson, amber, and blacks. He gave them a fanged smile. Yes, they would win. Azkaban... the city beneath Azkaban, would once more be held in the proper hands, the hands of his clan.

"My lord, the Sang clan has sent word. They shall join us in the taking of the island."

"Very well, let them know they shall have a place among us if they wish." The messenger nodded and was gone in an instant to send word to their, now, allies. His smile slipped down into a self-satisfied grin. The wizards were sure to be in a bit of a tiff when the news broke.

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**July 7, 1995, 3:46am**

**4 Privet Drive**

Harry stared down at the letter he just received with a heavy amount of confusion. He rubbed his eyes and then squinted at the page again. Well, the words hadn't changed so he must be seeing what he was seeing. His looked back down to the signature. Definitely Sirius'. If this was a joke, he was going to send the fugitive back to Akaban himself because this sure as hell wasn't a bit humorous. When he'd first gotten the letter he had been just a bit confused. It was short and seemed to ramble on in no particular direction with a few words in places that one wouldn't usually use, so in light of that, it took a while to figure out its particular purpose. When he finally put all the clues together and spoke the Marauder's password, the letter changed entirely in content.

_Listen pup, this will be hard for you to understand but you have to try. There isn't another choice for you. I should have told you sooner, but there just wasn't a good time or way to explain it and when we first met I wasn't in a good state in the first place. Lily, your mom, well... she wasn't really a muggle born like every one thought she was. She did have magic, but she was no witch. Only James and I knew she was a vampire, though I never found out how that came about or how she had you. At least, I thought we were the only ones. Some how Dumbledore found out, and he's starting to put... precautions into place in case you "lapse into your dark nature." From what I've found out about your previous years, everything seemed a bit to orchestrated in the first place. You don't need to believe me about that, but you do need to run. Run far and fast._

_I won't be able to help much. The old man has been watching me closely and it will be pure luck if I get this letter out and to you with the device I sent you. Right now I'm locked up in the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters so don't come looking for me. In fact, I'll be obliviating the fact that I ever wrote this letter once I've sent it. I wish I could protect you, but I can't do any more than this. The ring that came folded up in the envelope is a disruptor. It will nullify any charms that have been placed on you and weaken any spells to a point that they should fracture and melt away on their own with time. The other is a port-key I managed to make with one of the wands that have been hidden in the house. You'll have to leave the wards around the house to use either. The port-key will drop you in my cottage in France. You'll be the only one able to enter so you can use it as long as you like. There will be some things there to help you get started._

_I'm sorry to drop this on you like this, through a letter of all things, and I wish I could go with you now and watch over you like I promised I would. I won't tell you never to come back, Merlin knows that I'll always want to see you, but I wish you would stay away from this trouble and live your own life. Your still young, you shouldn't have to be swept up into this Dark Lord business any more than you are. If you do come back though, you need to be careful. Don't underestimate Dumbledore just because he looks like an old man, and don't... don't trust the people working for him easily. _

_~Love you kid,_

_Padfoot_

The letter suddenly went up in flames that glowed a delicate blue color. The ashes dropped to the floor. He paid them no mind. It wasn't like the Dursleys ever came in here to clean, that was his job. He looked at the ring and the small metal plate that was acting as a port-key. It wasn't that he didn't believe Sirius. He did, but what did he mean when he said that Dumbledore was taking precautions? And how could his mother had been a vampire and no one else have known? Didn't they have an aversion to sunlight? It wasn't like Hogwarts offered many night classes. He sat on the bare bed, staring down at the items. With a swift motion they were in his hand. Those questions didn't matter right now. All that did matter was that even if they were partially true, then he was in some kind of danger, and he couldn't dodge blows from both sides of this conflict. He'd never survive it.

Slowly and with steady resolve he slipped off of his bed to kneel on the floor and pry up the loose board. His most valued possessions, the only ones he would be taking, were there. Wand, cloak, and album. When he had a firm grasp on all of them, with the cloak drawn over him and the ring and port-key securely in hand, he moved to the door. Harry placed his hand on the back of the door, just along the side where the series of locks were lined up. He'd only done this a handful of times before and only when he _needed_ out, but he was confident that his magic would assist him now. He reached down into that swirling vortex of energy and thrust it forward. The incantation came to mind, the wand movement -though he held none, and the feeling when the spell was cast. _Alohomora._ The locks gave soft clicks as the opened themselves. He twisted the knob and stepped into the shadowed hall, making his way slowly down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door.

The night was dark, no moon to light the yard. The neighborhood was shrouded and the houses and objects that dotted the lawns just barely silhouettes against the night. He stepped carefully around them, twisting through the many back yards to feel his way beyond the various wards that surrounded the place. The blood wards were only around the house, but he had felt other just at the edge of his neighborhood. He wasn't going to take any chances. As soon as he passed through them, he would use the disruptor and the port-key. Then... well then he would pause and try to figure every thing out. The wards brushed over him, making his skin tingle and the hair on his arms raise a little. He slipped on the ring and felt it pulling at the spells and charms on him, ripping them away and tearing them to shreds. He waited just a moment until he was sure the object had finished his work before clutching the port-key and whispering the marauder's password once more. He was whisked away, leaving the grassy knoll he'd been standing on empty.

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**July 7, 1995, 4:56am**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Alarms shrieked, breaking the silence of the early morning. Shiny little baubles that twirled and moved that lined various shelves and even the desk suddenly sputtered and died. Then, everything fell abruptly quiet again, as if nothing had happened. The alarms task had been completed before their suddenly deaths, the Headmaster had been awakened and was hurrying down from his room to the office, a touch of panic in his chest. Those were the alarms for the end wards, the last wards that surrounded the area Harry was living at. If they went off, then that meant he had left them. When they suddenly stopped, his pace quickened. Harry's ties to the wards had been cut. He burst into his office, throwing the door open with little care and startling the sleeping phoenix. It didn't take long to notice that all of the objects he'd linked to Harry in some way were no longer functioning. Numbly, he sank down into his chair.

Any chance he had of finding Harry had just expired. Without the ties he had established, it would be next to impossible. They would have to go about their such just like muggles, but they didn't have all the options of the muggle technology available to them. Then again, the boy couldn't possibly have gone far. Surely it had to be a fluke, accidental magic, that allowed him to disable all of the little trinkets tied to him. Then again, the possibility that he'd had aid in the matter of his escape did not completely disappear. He knew exactly who to suspect in that regard. Only one person would consider defying him in this matter, and that was Sirius Black. He would be making time to visit the man today, assuredly. Perhaps Severus could relinquish a vial of veritaserum? He doubted the potions professor would protest all things considered.

He made his way down to the dungeons, unsurprised to find the man still up and hovering over two caldrons that simmered and hissed softly. Severus was always like this in the beginnings of summer. Tied down with students and his duties as a teacher for most of the year, he rarely had time to experiment, so he left most of it for the months when the castle would be mostly empty. Severus looks up at him as he enters, his eyes darker than normal from the lack of sleep he'd been getting the last two days.

"Something you need, Albus?"

"Yes, I think a bottle of your finest would do well." he said with that congenial old man smile of his. Severus paused in watching his cauldrons, straitening to his full height to peer at the man. He would have asked questions, if he'd been sure it would have gotten him a honest and straightforward answer, but he wasn't such a fool.

"A moment then." He turned away and was gone into his private stores, shuffling bottles and vials to find the one he'd kept furthest in the back and hidden behind a piece of wood that supported the shelf above. He hesitated just slightly as he palmed the vial of clear liquid. Just what was the Headmaster planning now? "Here." He passed it away casually as if he didn't have hundreds of questions.

Dumbledore gave him another of those smiles and twinkled brightly at him. He repressed a shiver. Who ever the veritaserum was for, there wasn't likely a positive outcome for them. He could almost bring himself to feel sorry for the victim. Almost, but not quite. He turned back to his potions as the Headmaster ambled away, playing his part at senile old fool. He knew better of course, at least now, when it was too late to matter. He really should have listened more in his younger years. Dark wizards had never been wrong when forming an opinion on the light side of the society. They couldn't afford to be because doing so would get them, and likely their family, killed.

~..~

It was late morning, almost noon before Sirius decided that it was time to rise for the day. It wasn't like he had anything to be up early for anyways. He was alone today, Lupin staying at his small cottage because of the fight that had ensued the evening before. Remus had whole heartedly agreed to Dumbledore's ideas of subduing the vampire within Harry. Sirius had a few choice words to the werewolf over the matter considering that the man was in fact a dark creature himself, and he had been given a choice in whether he wanted to take the potion Snape brewed. That he wanted to take such a choice away from Harry hurt Sirius more than he was willing to admit. He stepped into the kitchen with a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and arching his back until a few satisfying pops sounded. He didn't even have time to comprehend the stunner that took him from behind.

Dumbledore stood over the unconscious form spread across the floor before him. Azkaban had indeed taken its toll on the man if he was able to sneak up on the other. Sirius, surprisingly enough, had been known for his talent of detection when he'd been an auror. Without hesitation he levitated Sirius into a chair and bound him tightly to it, and with a quick flick of his wrist, Sirius was once more awake if not a little dazed. He tipped the appropriate amount into Sirius' mouth before stepping back and waiting for the serum to take affect. Only when he was looking into glazed eyes did he being questioning.

"What is your name?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

"How long have you been aware of Harry Potter's vampiric condition."

"Since his birth."

"Did you ever discuss this with him?"

"No."

"Did you ever attempt to relay this information in any other way?"

"No."

"Were you, at any time, planning to tell Harry about it?"

"Yes."

"Did you have a hand in Harry Potter's disappearance?"

"No."

"Are you aware of anyone who did?"

"No."

The Headmaster pursed his lips and tilted his head back. Apparently Black hadn't known about Harry's vanishing act or knew any one that did. Surely the boy couldn't have pulled such a stunt on his own, and if the death eaters or Voldemort had had anything to do with it, they would have ripped through the wards. Oh, the questions. He certainly hadn't planned for this eventuality. The boy was never supposed to run away, or if he did, not do it so efficiently that they weren't able to track him with the many spells. Ah, perhaps the coven Lily was a childe of had taken him?

"Do you know which clan or coven Lily's vampire heritage came from?"

"No."

"Would the vampire's have taken Harry from his home?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"He has to prove himself in some way to them."

Dumbledore nodded and stepped up to give him a dose of the counter. Sirius' eyes cleared and he was looking up at the elderly man in confusion.

"Albus? What-"

"Sorry, my boy." He said grimly, casting an obliviate before finally releasing the man and heading back to his office. He stepped from the fireplace and into the quiet of his office. Fawkes was missing from his perch, no doubt doing whatever it was that phoenixes did in their spare time. He sat in his chair and folded his hands atop the desk. "How curious..."

**July 7, 1995, 4:56am**

**Voldemort's Citadel**

Crimson eyes snapped open, and Voldemort jolted into an upright position in his bed. The dark silken covers had been tossed half onto the floor and the other pillows that had been pushed against the headboard were now strewn across the mattress. Something had changed. He could taste it on the air, in the swirl of magic. Some thing crucial had just happened, some thing that could change the outcome of the war. He rose gracefully from between the sheets and took t his feet quietly. It was a little early to be up and moving around considering the time he finally went to bed, but without knowing exactly what had happened, he would be unable to fall back to sleep.

He slipped into his robes with a shrug of his shoulders and headed toward his study. This would need further study. Perhaps he would call a meeting tonight and gather the reports from his spies. He twirled his wand idly between his fingers as he walked down the hall. He wondered if the shifting in the magic would work in his favor. With the majority of the magical world denying his return he had time to gather his resources without any interference. The downside was that he had to continue to lie low until his forces were once more amassed. So thus far, things were working in the opposing side's favor.

Voldemort fell into the plush chair in his study, one leg swung up over the arm and proceeded to tap his yew wand against his lips. So many things to contemplate... Torchlight shined on the gleaming silver around his wrist and drew his eyes. The two rubies that were the serpent's eyes _(because they match yours, Tom)_ stared back at him from a finely crafted face. He sneered at it. He would have thought that he had conquered such sentimentality, and yet here he sat, wearing something from the days of his youth. He sighed and pulled the sleeve of his robe down, hiding it from view once more. The one who had given it to him was long dead and gone, and all that was left were the bracelet and the memories attached to it.

"Foolish of me." He spoke softly into the empty room.

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**July 7, 1996, 4:56am**

**Padfoot's Cottage, France – Unplottable**

Harry sprawled across the ground as he landed, face nearly buried in the dirt. He spat out a few blades of grass as he sat up. Yard tasted as bad in France as it did in Britain. He looked up to the house and blinked. Twice. Then rubbed his eyes. Apparently Sirius had a skewed sense of 'cottage' because this was far larger than what he pictured a cottage to be. Three floors were easily visible, large windows with drapes pulled decorated the face of the home, and there were three statues that the cobblestone path split and wrapped around that led to the front door. A stag, a wolf, and a grim all stood together on a raised stone platform. A faint smile touched his lips. He moved passed them and into the house. A small end table was waiting for him in the foyer, a note scrawled across bright white parchment with a book sitting underneath on top of the darkly polished surface.

_Glad that you made it pup. Welcome to Padfoot's Cottage. The house is unplottable and no one but you and me know where it is. Not even Moony knows that I have this place. There aren't any house elves though, so you'll be on your own with cooking and cleaning. The nearest town is about a ten-minute walk, but there is a motorcycle in the shed that you can take, to go and get food or whatever. Now for the important things. The library is fully stocked and... I can't believe I'm writing this but you'll need all the help you cant get... don't be shy about the dark arts books. There should be quite a few about vampires as well. You can use magic as long as you're within the property. The forest out back can be dangerous, but mostly at night so be careful. There's a potion lab in the backroom on the second floor – try not to blow up the house. There are a couple of brooms in the shed with the motorcycle. _

_This place is floo accessible but only with the password "grim" and you have to let others through if they don't have the password. The age to get an apparition license in France is fifteen, so take that after your birthday. Heh, the bastards in the ministry have no choice but to honor it. Get another wand while your here. The floo address for the... er, I guess you would call it a village is Black Lotus Cafe. There are shops for pets, books, wands, a bank, clothes –magical and muggle, a tattoo parlor, magical items store, something akin to a pawnshop, and a jewelry shop that also sells magical trunks. Before you go out, make sure to hide your identity. I know that you don't have your key, so I opened a vault under the name Corvus Blackwood. The key is by the book. An allowance is transferred monthly. Try not to spend it all in once place._

_~ Good luck_

_Sirius_

The house was fully stocked with all the supplied he would need, easily enough food for two weeks, perhaps longer depending on how hungry he was. He pulled the book, key, and note from the table as he walked past, intent on putting them into what ever room he decided to stay in for now. He noticed that the house didn't seem that lived in. All of the furniture looked new and clean, no pictures hung from the walls, and many of the rooms looked freshly painted. It was surprisingly bright, nothing at all like he would have pictured when looking at Sirius. The man may have fought on the light side of the war, but he looked like a dark wizard.

The first room he entered happened to be the library that Sirius had written about. Shelves lined three of the four walls with the last being spared in the case that a large bay window opened up the room. Sheer crimson curtains were pulled closed across a golden curtain rod, but he could make out the vague shapes beyond. The window looked out onto the forest that lay behind the home. The next room was a small bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet. It seemed cramped compared to the rest of the house. Many of the rooms were empty, just carpeting and four plain walls. In a way it was depressing, and at the same time, it gave him a sort of blank slate to work with. This was where he was going to be living for as long as he could, and he was going to make it into his home.

**July, 21**

He'd been here two weeks, and he couldn't yet say that he regretted leaving. The _International Dragon_ had come out some time last week with news –front page of course- of his disappearance. Dumbledore and his friends had given short interviews, asking him to come back and let them know that he was okay. He, naturally, didn't respond. It no longer bothered him after the third paper came out with his smiling face on the cover. With so much time to himself, he'd come to the same conclusion that Sirius had pointed out to him. The events of his Hogwarts life seemed far to contrived to be coincidental, and with that in mind, it meant that there was no way his friends had become so by chance. That didn't mean that he thought that Dumbledore was an evil man. He could almost see where the Headmaster was coming from, what with everything involving Tom Riddle in his younger years, but that didn't mean he approved of it. In fact, he detested the interference. To be dark or light was his choice, and it shouldn't be taken away from him.

Dumbledore intended to do just that, partially with the planned occurrences and now with the scheme to deny him his vampiric heritage.

**July 31**

He'd gotten his license to apparate. Finally. Even with the appointment and the classes he'd signed up for it had taken a near total of four hours. The concept wasn't that difficult, envision where you want to go and bang your there. No, it was that his instructor just wouldn't stop talking about what one should not do when attempting to apparate. Most of which was common sense by the way. Avoid apparating while drunk or injured severely enough that shock was starting to set in. He'd been so lucky as to receive the instructor that went into the particulars of splinching oneself as well... and what a boring lecture that had been. But in the end he had gotten what he wanted and considered it worth the trouble.

**Aug 4**

Some one had been near his home, a place that was supposed to be unplottable. They didn't enter the wards though, instead following the border entirely around the property as if to map the location as thoroughly as possible while not being able to enter. He was far more careful now since the discovery of the trespasser, casting spells nearly every time he left the house to detect people. He was taking no chances that it could be a member of Voldemort's forces or one of Dumbledore's men. Harry didn't want to go back to that life. He was content here, learning from books and the people he met at the Black Lotus. This life was easy, and the part time job he'd taken at the book store was easily as well. No enemies.

**Aug 17**

His visitor had stopped by again and had left a sheet of parchment tacked to a tree. He'd narrowed down the time, between 10pm and 2am, for their arrival. The paper had thirteen symbols drawn on it. They were set into a circle all centered around an ankh. Lines hashed through six of the symbols, marring the vibrant colors with harsh black. Four had another signed behind them, as if the ink had faded away, but it was recognizable enough. Blood ties, Family ties. Who ever it was that still lived was the representative of those four symbols, but what were they? One could assume a family just from the impression behind the symbols, but for all he knew, it could mean the unification of four different species into a single body. There were far to many interpretations to it. Then again, the ankh had to have some significance in relation to the thirteen symbols. Now what species and cultures were closely tied to it.

**Aug 21**

Vampires. Those symbols were the crests of the thirteen covens, the royalty of the vampiric community. They were high bred, high class, or at least they were hundreds of years ago. Six of the clans had been completely wiped out, the only thing remaining to show that they even existed in the first place were the crests on the page he held. Their names and their line's powers were all lost to the decay that comes with time. The four connecting ones, Umbra (Shadow), Sol (Sun), Ignis (Fire), and Fuga (Flight) were the clans of the fallen, the lost. The powers those clans were known for: Umbra's shadow travel, Sol's ability to thrive in day, Ignis' resistance and control of fire, and Fuga's ability to fly, were the lost arts of vampire kind. Many tried to attain the powers, and only those with even a hint of that line's blood could.

With all the knowledge displayed on the paper, albeit in a round about way, there was only one possible option for his visitor. His interloper had to be a vampire. That set him ill at ease. Why would a vampire seek him out? After the fall of the thirteen clans, the ruling body, they'd scattered into smaller covens with their own particular hierarchy. There was no reason for them to look for him. He hadn't even come into his vampire abilities. Harry slid the tome he'd gotten his information out of away from him, near the other side of the table. He would need to meet his vampire stalker soon. He needed answers.

**Aug 26**

Harry's eyes flew open as he sense the barely there change in the wards. The vampire had touched them. Either it had wanted to test them, or it was looking to gain Harry's attention. He was up and out of bed as fast as he feet could carry him. Backyard. He made an abrupt turn, almost loosing his footing on a small rug, towards the back of the house. The wards bordered the tree line there. The vampire would have plenty of darkness to hide itself in. He knew that he shouldn't run outside all willy-nilly, especially as that voice in the back of his head was berating him with ever step he took, but he wanted to get to the vampire before it decided to disappear again. He lurched through the back door and knew as soon as an arm clamped around his throat, another holding his arms tightly to his sides, that he shouldn't have assumed that the vampire had stayed on the opposite side of the wards. There was no time for questions as his mind fell into oblivion.

His attacker, a man with bone white hair and gold eyes looked down at the unconscious form cradled in his arms. His face was angular, sharp, and there was a certain harshness in the set of his jaw. He looked cruel, with those hollow and cold eyes, but his gentle rearrangement of the body he held spoke differently. A pale hand ran through the dark hair of the boy he held. He could taste the magic humming just beneath the surface, and the vampire blood he could smell was strong. A true heir to one of the thrones. So much potential. It would, perhaps, remind him of that oh-so human sadness when the boy's life ended. He touched a warm cheek gently. Tomorrow then, he would kill the boy.

"How unfortunate that it is you, one with such great ability, that I stumble across this night. Fate does not smile kindly upon you child. So strange it is, that your blood -your life- calls to me, that I draw you out with nary a thought. Though I must wonder, if it was not _you_ who called _me_." He stood then, and darted into the dark forest looking like little more than a blur with his preternatural speed.

~..~

When Harry woke it was to a throbbing headache that made even his teeth hurt. His throat felt sore, raw, and just by touching it he knew it was bruised. He was laying on a bed, but not his. Slowly he sat up and looked around. It wasn't his home. He must have been kidnapped then.

"I was hoping that you would not wake." The voice was so soft that Harry might've thought he had imagined it.

"Who are you?"

"I go by many a name, child, but for the short time you shall be my company you may address me as Cain."

"So... uh... Cain, what do you plan on doing with me?"

"I plan to kill you this evening."

"Why?"

"I know that you are a fairly clever child."

"You're the vampire."

"Indeed."

"I guess that I'm going to be your... dinner?"

"That is correct."

"I thought vampires didn't... eat other vampires." Cain gave a small smiled at that and took a seat in one of the chairs in the room. It wasn't often he conversed with his meals, but this was interesting.

"You are not vampire, nor will you ever be. The blood within you, while potent, is dormant and shall remain so. You have the potential to become one, but the process would need to be induced. Of course, the point is moot. You shant live to the morrow."

"Will it hurt?" It was strange that he resigned himself so easily. After the Dursley's and Voldemort, he would have thought that he would fight to live. Perhaps he was tired. Cain appeared thoughtful of the question.

"Would you like it to?"

"Not particularly." He gave the immortal a wry smile.

"Do you know the ways that a vampire makes their bite pleasant?"

"No." He shook his head.

"Ah, then we shall have to see which method you would prefer." Cain didn't know why he was feeling so altruistic. He had never given a thought to his other victims. Their pleasure or pain didn't matter to him, as he was a very selfish creature. He stood with a fluent grace and moved with a casual gate to take a place on the bed. "I can hypnotize you, separate the pain from your mind and let the last thing on your mind be the love that you hold for me." He caressed Harry's cheek. "Or I can simply knock you out again, and you'll never wake up. I can put up any illusion you wish, a family, a friend, a different life, a lover. You'd never know the difference." He carded a hand through that soft hair once more, and then he abruptly rolled over, straddling the boys hips. "Or I could take you in the throws of passion, taking you so high that pleasure meets pain and there is no line to differentiate it anymore."

Cain could feel that heart race, see the dilation of pupils even in the dimly lit room, and smell the small amount of desire. He'd been told, even while human, that he was an attractive man, though he had always thought that his white hair had taken away from his looks. He wasn't vain per se, really he wasn't, but he could honestly admit to missing his old hair color, black as a crow's wings. He shook away his thoughts and leaned closer to the youth, parting his lips in a parody of a smile to show gleaming white fangs.

"Is that what you want, to be enveloped in ecstasy and pleasures of the flesh so euphoric that you don't feel your life slipping away. Knowing that even as my fangs pierce your flesh that you can do nothing but want more of it."

Harry opened his mouth, but then quickly shut it again. If he was going to die, wouldn't it be better to not die a virgin. Sure, this guy seemed like a complete and total arse with the fact that he wanted him dead for no other reason than food and he didn't even know if he really like guys or not, but when it came down to it, he wasn't going to complain. Cain wasn't ugly by any stretch, and physical love was a kind of love too, something he'd been denied. He closed his eyes in thought, trying to decided. It was his choice. No one was going to tell him if it was right or wrong, and no one was going to save him at the last minute. He looked up, bright green meeting startling gold.

"Yes." He hissed, looking towards the ceiling in a resigned fashion. Cain smiled at him in a predatory fashion.

*********

Sharp claws sprung forth on pale hands, and Cain shredded the shirt on the body beneath him. He ignored the blush that sprung up on his partner's face, instead choosing to explore the warmth beneath him. How long had it been since he had taken a lover? A decade? Two? He couldn't even remember. He ran a hand across Harry's chest and stomach in seeming fascination of how the muscles seemed to shy away. He explored gently, taking into account that, as a last time, he wanted to at least make it enjoyable for both of them. He traced ribs down a soft side to the mild curve of a hip. Cain's animalistic smile was back as the very point of his claw followed the path of fabric across to the opposite side and back before completely cutting away the button that held the material closed.

Those brilliant green eyes were suddenly open, staring at him with a slight fear. He leaned forward slowly, capturing delicate lips in a soft kiss. His placidness was rewarded when hands wove their way into his hair, urging him on. And on he went. He slid lower, bracing his weight on his arms as he nuzzled at the tender flesh of Harry's throat. A sharp nip drew a gasp, and Cain smiled around his fangs. He lapped at the collar bone. The boy tasted good. In a move to quick to see, Cain had tore apart the denim pants and restrained Harry's arms at his sides. His prize would not be getting away anytime soon.

Passion. It wasn't a feeling similar to anything Harry had ever felt. He enjoyed the delicate caresses. They made him feel wanted, that he was something special, but they were nothing compared to the heavy hold that pinned him. Being held down, restrained, lit something in him. It was an all consuming fire that twisted through his body, coming to the surface where those hands, that mouth, touched his skin. His body writhed and inarticulate sounds, so soft, escaped his throat. Merlin those teeth! They bit down, just hard enough to draw the faintest traces of blood. He couldn't help but offer himself up to those greedy lips.

Desire coursed through him. Skin on skin. He hadn't even noticed when Cain had shed his clothes. One of those fair clawed hands reached between them for him, and he didn't even try to stop the new sounds, urgent in their taste, that came forth with the strokes. That second hand drifted lower, preparing him for things to come, and Harry couldn't help but find this pain all the more enticing as well.

He hissed and writhed under the larger body, begging - pleading for some thing more. Then that wicked mouth fell over his again. The vampire tasted like blood, all metallic coppers and bitter sweetness, but he couldn't complain. He drank him in, swallowed him down, and when the elder's magic unfurled, wrapped himself in that thick cloying darkness that almost burned in its depth. And then finally -Finally!- he was being filled, taking the other in inch by inch until Cain was pressed fully against him. Harry twisted, back turning into a perfect arch as the vampire started to move. Lithe, strong arms held him still as the pace quickened, driving him to thrash in that pale hold. He felt the shudder of energy as his own magic lifted from his skin to whip against the vampires. For a moment he lost all physical sensation, the scent of sex, the feel of slick skin moving against slick skin, the sound of their bodies coming together, that taste of blood that still lingered in his mouth, all for the sight of their magic -twisting, curling, striking- against each other.

_'It's like the magic is fighting.'_ He thought detachedly.

*********

Harry was drawn back to the present moment. The vampire's actions faltered an instant, his body seeming to coil back, lips pulled back over fangs that seemed to have grown larger. Harry was, some how, quicker. He sunk his own fangs _(when did they get there?)_ into that pale column of throat with no remorse. Liquid life filled his mouth and poured down his throat. He felt the pain of claws sinking into his back, trying to rip him away, but he had locked his legs and arms around Cain's body. There was no way for the vampire to rid himself of Harry. Cain was going to die; they both knew it. When Harry did pull away, his mouth covered in blood, Cain was even more pale. His skin shown like polished marble in the faint light. A weak chuckled pushed its way out of the vampire's throat even as he collapsed, boneless, onto his side.

"Perhaps..." He took a shuddering breath. "Perhaps fate does smile upon you. Then again," He laughed this time, a shrill sound that almost made Harry wince. "She may not. Good luck on your journey, young Ancient." Cain's body shuddered out its last breath and fell still.

"Journey?" Was all he was able to say before black over took his vision, and he felt himself stolen away by unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Tripping Through Time**_

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_We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny. But what we put into it is ours._

_~Dag Hammarskjöld_

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**480 BC**

Harry had been around long enough thus far to know his way around a sword. He knew where they were going, and he knew what was to happen. It no longer bothered him. This wasn't the first time he was to go into a battle with the knowledge that he would not be on the winning side. Still, they were good men, these Spartans. It was sheer luck that he'd been so easily accepted into the harsh culture, but the people he'd met -men, woman, and children- were all admirable. They were fierce in everything they did, and he couldn't help but feel honored that he would have a part in such a historic event.

The leader, their king, _his_ king, directed them forward. They formed a wall, heavy shields hiding their bodies from the attacks the Persians launched upon them. The second line, directly behind him, used spears to viciously cut through the armor they wore, if it could be called such. Bodies piled before them, and they stepped over them -on them- to push the forces back once more. He still found it amazing how many of the forces they could cut through with just their small number. As of now, all the elements were working in their favor. The slim pass, narrowing down the numbers, funneling their substantial forces down to something manageable. Their abilities, training and harsh conditions building up their bodies, not to mention the tactics they employed to take advantage of every possibility. Their weapons, easily able to shred through the menial coverings they wore as they were not made to stand up to the forces of an iron blade, and their shields, heavy as they were, they covered them from the arrows and blades their enemies used.

The leader of the Persians, Harry couldn't for the life of him remember his name, sent his best to stand against their line, sent his beasts taken from the wilds of other countries to be cut down. They hadn't received much news on the navy, but he expected them to falter anytime now. The end was coming soon. A final confrontation. He looked to his king as saw that same knowledge reflected back. None of them would make it out alive, save himself. He would miss each man, his comrades. He gave a final salute to his king, a final farewell. Then he turned back to the fight and charged in. A blade to him in the chest, spearing him though a lung and collapsing it. He waited until dark before he disappeared.

**49 BC**

Egypt was a beautiful place. He especially enjoyed the desert, with the rolling dunes and soft sand. He didn't travel out often though, preferring to stay near the cities and villages for meals as it was hard to find a population of humans in the middle of nowhere. As of now, he was enjoying a gathering of the highly ranked people, those that severed as priests and advisors. His attention shifted as a body swayed from a large crowd. Golden brown skin and hair, the darkest shade he had yet to see, drew him instantly. Oh, he knew who this was. The gold and expensive fabrics that twisted about her body along with that circlet could only indicate one person. Cleopatra had arrived. He watched as she looked critically about the room, whether for easy prey or good company he wasn't sure. It was hard _not_ to admire the woman. She was powerful, rivaling many of the men he had come across during his travels easily. Not only did she have political strength, she was easy on the eyes as well.

Harry could honestly admit he wouldn't mind having a go with her, even if he was one of her harem boys for a time. His eyes, still that same startling green even though the rest of him hid beneath a glamour, met her dark ones. The rest of the room faded away as she swayed toward him, so much like a serpent. He couldn't help but become entranced by her. He offered a soft smile as she took a place at his side, easily keeping everyone in view from the point against the far wall.

"I hope your evening has gone well."

"As usual." She answered without looking at him.

"How are the politics in the Eastern countries."

"The council they hold is corrupt and they are fools for not seeing it."

He nodded. He hadn't dealt much with politics, unable to understand the finer inner workings without someone's hand to guide him. He hadn't needed politics thus far though, always keeping his standing high enough for respect and yet low enough that he wasn't deemed a threat by those in greater standing, and once they knew him, they didn't even try to maneuver him to their own gains.

"Councils often are, and people are to blind to notice." He spoke after a moment. She turned towards him now, gold beads woven into her hair swaying gently against her face.

"Come, let us discuss this further." She turned and walked away, both of them knowing it was just an excuse to retreat from the gathering. In the end, Cleopatra had taught him everything he needed to know. She took him under her wing to teach him about government, subtle manipulation, bribery, blackmail, and negotiation.

**44 BC**

When he had first heard of Caesar, it had been the singing of his praises. The people had gifted him great power to save them all. He was a hero. But power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. He became a dictator, ruling his lands with a heavy hand. He had refused to leave his station, claiming to be for the better, and by the time everyone knew differently it was to late. He was firmly seated, surrounded by officials who would use him to establish their own authority. Rome was starting to crumble. He could only say goodbye to the once grand city. It wouldn't belong before the extravagant marble buildings collapse and the city run by curs in human skin, doing any thing for a gold coin.

With his foreknowledge of the future, he had known what to look for, who to follow. The plot to rid them of Julius Caesar seemed to delve and twist and take unexpected turns. He almost found it humorous that out of all the exaggerated assassination plots those men had come up with, that they had decided to simply mob him in the councils meeting place, stabbing him to death. He had observed the death from behind a thick stone column with cold eyes. Murder hardly even reached him anymore. It was an everyday occurrence, and he realized that being a bleeding heart, trying to save everyone, was going to get him killed, and it might not even save the person he had died for. He had learned a lot this day, about power, betrayal, avarice, and ambition. They would have made good Slytherins. But all he could notice right now, at the moment the final blade struck him down, was how much like Dumbledore Caesar had been.

**993 **

He had some how found his way to Scotland in time to watch the beginnings of Howarts. He never really intended to come here, all thoughts of Hogwarts so distant in his mind that it seemed like the remnants of dreams. It was nothing so grand as the marble palace or as striking as the great pyramids, but the beauty of the stone castle set back against a dark forest was amazing. He had forgotten how breath taking it had been. It was like seeing it for the first time all over. It was also where he finally met his first vampire aside from Cain. Jean-Claude was tall, lanky, pale, and had hair the color of canary feathers. His eyes had been one of the darkest shades of blue he had ever seen, like a midnight sky that wasn't quite black.

"A royal, an honor. My name is Jean-Claude." Red lips pulled into a smile that Harry was sure was mocking. "What are you doing at a wizard school?"

"Harry, and I'm watching." He must have given more away then he realized because the vampire set a curious, then knowing, look upon him.

"So you are still on your journey. From when do you hail?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Did your sire teach you nothing?"

"Those that gave birth to me died not long after I was born and the last vampire I met had tried to kill me." Jean-Claude nodded as if this were a normal occurrence. For all Harry knew, it was.

"It is a gift and a curse of the royal covens. Their magic takes them to times where they were learn specific lessons to help them survive. Of course, the royals haven't lead any clans in over a millennia, but magic cares naught for present thoughts."

He looked as if he were about to continue when a scream and a crash resounded through the castle, cutting him off. He chuckled just a bit. No where in the history books that he remembered had it said Godric Gryffindor was just a bit of a perv. Well, that and a bit of a kink he had when it came to being hit. He had actually overheard a discussion between Salazar and Rowena about it, both agreeing that he actually liked being hurt. After a few days of watching, he couldn't disagree. He looked back to Jean-Claude, only to find that the vampire had disappeared. There was a whisper on the wind.

_"We'll meet again."_

**1171**

Merlin it hurt! Pain blossomed in his chest. He felt his heart stutter as the thin blade of his enemy slipped between his ribs. His world tilted, darkness sweeping over his vision before flowing away like water. He ripped out the throat of the man in front of him. No one would notice. He slew another enemy with his blade as they struck forward. He didn't understand why he was here, fighting for a cause he didn't believe in. He was fighting with people who would burn him at the stake if they knew what he was, and it was all over a city that they claimed holy. He couldn't grasp it. He had never claimed to understand the religions and culture of the world, even for his years of traveling through it. He didn't comprehend how they could justify wholesale slaughter over it. They were two factions for the same thing, why must they fight over it. Call it neutral territory, with no one to lay claim over it. No one would have to die then.

An arch of blood flew up, splashing across his face. He didn't pay it much attention, the rest of him was painted scarlet anyways. They cut through each other until the ground squished beneath his feet from the blood turning it to mud. Why? He slit open someone's stomach, able to hear their frantic cry as they tried to keep their innards in place even over the battle. _Why?_ The man fighting at his side was downed with an arrow, his expression frozen in disbelief and pain. What was this for? What purpose could there be for such killing? Something in him died, just a small piece, but it was enough to fragment his views. He wasn't sure if he could ever truly believe something again after this.

**1294**

He left the muggle world for a time. Harry couldn't stand to look at any thing even remotely linked to battle right now. He could still feel the blood that saturated his skin, but he didn't have nightmares. He had come into the wizarding world again just in time to witness the first Twiwizard Tournament. He barely remember his first task, the dragon and the egg. Their's was fighting, and having to subdue or kill, the creature they had picked. A chimera, a manticore, and a nundu. He was thoroughly pleased that the tournament had actually gotten less dangerous. All three competitors had lived, though the one who fought the chimera had a severely mauled arm. He was taken out of the running.

The second task was disappointingly similar to his own, though there had been more dangerous water born creatures added to the mix. Both of the contestants made it through easily enough, completing their tasks in a timely manner with flair. The third task was the race to the cup. It wasn't a maze though, instead it was a course that spanned over different kinds of terrain with various creatures, some threatening, some not, put into their own environments to meet the competitors as they moved onward. One of the two died just before he reached the cup. The third, a nameless brunette that Harry didn't really care for the name of, left victorious.

**1340**

He was back in the muggle world again, just in time to bear witness to the spread of a cruel disease. They called in the black plague. He called it tragic. Whole families, mothers, fathers, bothers, and sisters. Watching them all die while he remained completely untouched made him feel like he was reading a horror story. Rotting flesh. The smell of death. Fires stacked high with corpses because they were running out of places to burry the bodies. And he felt nothing as he helped pile bodies on to carts to pull them out of the more populated areas. This quarter wasn't going to last much longer. The healthy ones would abandon it to the sickly, and the rest of this city would then move those who got sick to this place. He saw it happen in the last village he came across, except they had also built a wall to divide them. A hand on his arm halted him from picking up the next body.

"Leave it. I just got word that they're burning this district tonight."

"And the healthy ones?" He asked. The other shrugged.

"Isn't my place to tell them. Who knows, if they're sick or some one they love is, they'll try and save 'em. They would take the whole city down with them." Harry couldn't argue that. It was true, especially for a parent and their child. He had already seen one woman and her babe cut down as she tried to flee with a child who wouldn't last through the night. He brushed his hands off on his clothes.

"Alright. You hungry?"

"One cold sonnova bitch to be able to eat after loading bodies." He muttered under his breath as he shook his head.

"Suit yourself. Are we working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, the south east sector is startin'. They want it clear out before it spreads to quick."

"I'll see you then." He turned and walked away. His gaze didn't even pause on the four children and their mother as he walked past.

**1387**

The Red Dragon was particularly busy this night. A surprising amount of hustle and bustle for the time, and even more so with the darker looking characters. The pub was fairly new, no more than a year, and the owner had just recently moved to Hogsmead intent on setting up. He doubted it would last long though. The pub was great, the imported liquor some of the finest, but the holder seemed to enjoy making enemies. Those of the worst kind too. He sat in a booth tucked back into the corner watching the cloaked ones especially close. He didn't want to be around when they finally decided they wanted to send the place up in flames.

"Do you mind if I take a seat?" Harry looked up to his visitor.

"Help yourself." He gestured with his cup.

The man ordered a drink. An awkward silence held around them for a moment before Harry felt the need to break it.

"Did you hear about that new potion?"

"The enslavement one?"

"Yeah."

The man snorted. "Who hasn't? Creating something so evil, personally I think they should string up the creator."

"Ah, but then you have those who are into political marriages, and what better way to ensure that the marriage sticks?" The man shook his head.

"Free will should never be corrupted."

"Your really open minded. Most would think of witches or magical beings as little more than animals." He pointed out.

"Yes, I've been told I'm a romantic and a fool."

"Funny how often those two coincide."

"Indeed." He agreed.

"I don't think I got your name."

"Oh, how rude of me. Nicholas Flamel." He stuck out a hand.

"Pleasure." He shook the offered hand, wondering why that name sounded so familiar.

**1478**

The screams... he didn't even hear them any more. They were just like static, background noise, to this place. He would call it a bunker, but that wasn't exactly right. It was closer to resembling a basement more than anything else. A deep basement, with many cells carved into the stone. This was the totality of human brutality. He walked passed the rooms without care, small bit of food and a water pitcher held sitting on a metal tray that balanced on his arm. He didn't even have to glance inside to know what was happening. Torture. Such a simple word, he thought. He could have fled, left all this... evil behind, but he'd been dropped here, in this place and at this time, for a reason. He was determined to see it through to the end.

He opened the cell quickly, setting the pitcher and the scraps of food on the dirty floor. It was drugged, and the captives would likely know that, but after so long even a starving man will eat poison if only to end it. He walked away, locking the door behind him as he went. The screams had faded for now. He went to the upper floors and took a seat on the bench that sat off to one side of the room. He felt empty inside, apathetic and distant to what was going on around him. It was strange. Everything felt so surreal, like it couldn't possibly be happening. He leaned back and settled his head against the wall. What could there possibly be to learn in such suffering?

**1492**

He was on a boat. He _hated_ boats. The three ships were sailing off to trade some goods in the Indies. He was looking for a ride and a quick bit of money. But of course, or perhaps as expected, their Captain had gotten lost. He'd claimed he knew a better way -quicker- to the Indies, but naturally, and as Harry knew, he was wrong. He honestly should have recognized it really, even if his school hadn't spent much time on it. It couldn't have been more obvious. The Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria, all lead by Columbus. He should have remember that this particular trip would lead to the discovery of America. He was not please by this set back. Not in the least. He had gotten tired of getting himself mixed up in historic events. Sorta a "you've seen one, you've seen them all" attitude.

That and not to mention this trip was long. Months. He was bored and running out of crew members to feed off of. There had to be a rotation on the humans on board or else he risked infecting someone, and having a fledgling pop up on board would be horrible. He didn't even remember his first few months as a newborn. He did remember that when he finally had regained his sanity he found himself in a hut with the occupants informing him that his was the only survivor of a massacre, which he suspected he was the cause of. He hung over the side of the ship watching as the water, highlighted by moonlight, caressed the side of the boat in gentle waves. The air had a slight chill, and the spray of the ocean didn't help any. The temperature wasn't uncomfortable, though members of the crew were likely to disagree with him.

**July 28, 1942 - 5th year**

Harry woke with a jolt, an unusual occurrence considering how often the jumps in time happened in his sleep, but the magic around the particular one was different. He could sense a tether on him, rooted in his magic but not tied to this time. Perhaps next time he would wake it would be where he belonged? Then again, he barely remembered any of his old life. His experiences in the past outweighed his 'human' life by many more. He sat up slowly, taking in the softly hued walls and the not-so-soft bed he was laying on. Metal bars ran along the side, and a curtain divided him from the rest of the room. It took a moment to realize that he was in a hospital. He leaned forward and plucked the chart the hung at the end of his bed. He didn't know a lot of medical terms, but he did know enough that all he had was a severe case of exhaustion, both physically and magically. A woman walked in then, clad in shades of pastel blues that seemed to have a calming effect. Until she scowled at him and took the chart from his hand, that is.

"Glad to see you awake. You've been asleep for five days. Now, perhaps you would be willing to answer some questions?"

He shrugged his shoulders and gave a nod.

"Name?"

"Jasper Cole."

"Residence?"

"I don't recall. How did I get here anyway." Her eyes seemed to sadden at the question.

"One of the small sects of wizards and witches was uses as a focal point of attack by the dark lord. You were found under a pile of rubble, but your injuries were minor at best, just a few abrasions and lacerations. Exhaustion was your real problem. I guess there was some trauma to your head to cause memory loss, but we didn't pick anything up on the scans so you'll be fine. If you don't mind, I'd like to process you and move you out as soon as possible."

"Alright."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen." She nodded and pulled a sheet from the clip board.

"Here. Write down your information and situation and then send it up to Headmaster Dippet up at Hogwarts. He'll welcome you without to many problems. Some one in the lobby will tell you where the owls are."

"Okay."

"Medical history?"

"I have none." That one wasn't even a lie, unless one counted the years at Hogwarts. He didn't.

"Hm. Well then, allergies?"

"None that I've found." She nodded and marked off something.

"Well, seeing as how you are a minor and have no present family, all the bills will be held until four months after you graduate. If you want to pay them off sooner, just tell the goblins to send the money to Saint Mungo's. They'll have the bill as well. I'll show you out."

~..~

Harry stared down at the parchment with just a bit of disbelief. He had received it two days after sending a letter to Hogwarts to get enrolled. Due to his current situation he wouldn't have to pay for tuition, just his supplies, but that wasn't what had caused the disbelief. It was the fact that he could very well be a minion of Grindelwald and no one was even questioning the possibility. Did this dark lord not have any intricate and over thought plans? Where was the standard level of predictable evil? Was he actually... a little disappointed? He shook himself away from that. There wasn't any need for interesting plots and twists. He should have gotten enough of that these past years. He sighed and headed off to the Alleys. He would filch a few coins to get money for his supplies.

The alley wasn't crowded or full as it was still a few days before the school rush. He hadn't been in Diagon since... well, he wasn't really sure when actually. He remembered where the shops were though, like taking a road you were so familiar with that the path stuck to your mind even though it was years later. His hands dipped into robe pockets with ease. Many wizards had anti-theft charms on the coin purses themselves, but he had little need for one of those. It was only the coins themselves he was interested in. When he felt he had enough, the various sum of knuts, sickles, and galleons, totaling about thirty galleons all together, he headed to the shops. He certainly needed some new clothes. The clothes the hospital had given him, little better than scrubs, weren't very comfortable. First though, he needed a wand.

He cast his eyes to Ollivander's. He needed a wand, but would any other take him besides his own that was now sitting in a box within that shop. He couldn't take his own, it had been there when he first came for it when he was eleven, but he couldn't go without either. Perhaps... was there even another wand maker in the alleys? He searched around, even diverting off into alleys that he hadn't known were there before to look for another wand maker. Unfortunately, Ollivander's _was_ the only shop that sold wands. Well, at least legally. Any back door deals available, he wouldn't have known about. He stepped into the shop and looked around cautiously. The scent of wood was heavy, but not in a bad way, and the magic made his nose tingle just a bit.

"Here for a wand I suppose? You look a little old to be getting your first." The man, Ollivander, asked as he popped up behind him.

"My first is gone."

"Unfortunate, unfortunate." He moved on. "Now, which is your wand hand."

"Right." The measuring tape was out, whipping around his arm, wrist, and measuring the length of his hand and fingers. "Try this one, willow and dragon heartstring, 9 inches. Very sturdy." His fingers had just grazed the wand before it was pulled away. "Pine and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter. Nice and flexible." He was just able to flick the wand before it was pulled from his hand again. This continued on for a half an hour before a look of consternation formed on the wand maker's face. He then turned back to Harry and gave him an appraisingly look. He then walked to the front of his shop, flipped the sign to 'closed', and walked back. "Do you, perchance, have magical creature or magical being blood?"

"Yes." He answered hesitantly, wondering exactly where this was going.

"Are you due to inherit it?"

"Yes."

"That could be a problem. I assume it is a dark inheritance?"

"I'm not sure how that matters." He said softly, but the firm set of his mouth and the tightness around his eyes conveyed his displeasure at the topic. Ollivander made a placating gesture.

"We cannot help what we are born to be. If it is a dark inheritance, it can affect a wand core's reaction to you. The list of cores I use is limited, mostly due to the ministry here and what they deem as acceptable usage for cores. Phoenix feathers, unicorn hairs, dragon heartstrings, all very light oriented you see or neutral at best. Many feel that if you limit the wand to light creatures, you will limit the wizard who would try to do dark magic. Of course, this hardly matters. Why I remember back in the Dark Ages this wand I made with a unicorn hair. The witch I gave that one to..."

Harry stopped listening for a moment. _Dark Ages? This guy was alive in the Dark Ages? How old is he?_ He looked the man over. Ollivander looked old, very much so, but wizards could live for a very long time. Then again, he was getting the distinct impression that the man before him was hardly human. Not vampire, that was for sure, but perhaps something as equally long lived?

"...and that was back when you could use hair from chimeras!" He shook himself from his thoughts. "You don't need to listen to an old man ramble though. Now, about your inheritance?"

"It is dark, yes."

"May I inquire as to the inheritance itself."

"Vampiric."

"They will not let you into Hogwarts you understand."

"They won't know."

"Am I to assume that you shall take all the necessary precautions?" Harry looked confused at that.

"Precautions?" Ollivander looked shocked.

"Yes. The substitute they made for human blood."

"Where can I buy it?" Ollivander laughed at that.

"You can't buy it. They ministry may not be able to have a 'kill on sight' policy with vampires, but they do have one with a 'no bite' plan. If you bite an unwilling human, it is automatic execution. In fact, there is a squad of aurors who troll around Knockturn Alley for vampires who they convince to feed off of them and then they set them up for a quick execution. I'd be wary of any willing donors. But back to the potion. The ministry actually restricted it. You can make it or have some one make it for you, but it can't be sold from a store. They claimed it kept down the number of those willing to be turned. Didn't your parents teach you this?"

"They're dead. Have been for as long as I can remember."

"My apologies." Harry waved him off.

"So about my wand..."

"Yes, yes. Since your inheritance is dark and is rejecting a 'light' core, I shall have to use another."

"Didn't you just basically say that it was illegal?"

"Illegal? I have no idea what you are talking about, but just to be on the safe side, I'll give you a faux wand. If anyone wishes to examine yours, you give them the fake and everything will continue on as planned."

"Isn't having two wands illegal as well?" He mused aloud.

"The second isn't a real wand so it doesn't count. A loophole you see."

"Ah." He gave a small smile.

"Follow me, we shall have to floo to my more... private stores."

He followed the man to the back room and through the floo. The room they ended up in had no door or windows. It was completely isolated. Jars, boxes, blocks of wood, and cauldrons sat upon shelves that lined the walls. A table, sturdy with thick wooden legs, sat in the middle of the room with shining tools laying upon it. A magical light hung down from the ceiling, casting a bright glow down on the table.

"Welcome to my workshop."

"I would have thought that you would craft your wands at your store."

"The normal ones, yes. This particular room is for my hobby time. Come, I'll need to examine your magic to pick out possible cores." A chair appeared next to the table and Ollivander gestured for him to sit. "Hold this, and don't move." He passed Harry a clear stone, perfect smooth and rounded, like glass from the ocean. Ollivander backed some distance away and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, even Harry could tell that he was seeing something entirely different though nothing outwardly had changed.

"Very interesting." A brow quirked. "My how Slytherin of you to lie about coming into your inheritance soon." Harry wonder just how much he could see right now. "Lines, Royal Lines. My, my won't this be an interesting wand. We'll have to find out which ones you belong to."

The power that had surrounded the wand maker vanished, and the man turned away to gather a cauldron. Harry just watched quietly as ingredients were thrown in and the mixture was carefully stirred and heated. Ollivander pulled a piece of parchment seemingly from nowhere and laid it down on the table. Carefully he tilted the small cauldron, dumping its contents on the center of the page. The liquid, a vibrant metallic green slithered and stretched across the sheet of paper, coming all the way to the edge before sinking into the page. The paper turned that same metallic green before fading back into the yellow-brown that was commonly seen.

"Well that was interesting. What was it?"

"That, was the creation of a lineage page. The recipe came from the goblins themselves. Nasty little blighters they can be, but they know their way around heritage tests. Now, I'll need some blood."

Harry stood up and stepped forward, offering his hand without any hesitation. Ollivander drew a dagger, not one from the table, and cut open his palm. The crafter held his hand above the page and squeezed the appendage, forcing the blood to come faster. Scarlet spattered on the page, pooling for just a moment before it to vanished into the parchment. Writing started to form, neat perfectly spaced letters.

_Royal Line of Umbra_

_Royal Line of Ignis_

_Royal Line of Fuga_

_Royal Line of Sol_

_Royal Line of Anguis_

_Pureblood Line of Potter_

_Pureblood Line of Gryffindor_

_Magical Line of Slytherin_

"Well, I must say I didn't see that one coming. A Potter? Who would have thought?"

"This will be kept quiet, I trust."

"Naturally. The making of the lineage page automatically binds me to secrecy of its contents. Still, five royal lines, two pureblood, and one magical. Amazing."

"What does the magical line mean?"

"That is where some one of a particular line has presented you with the gifts that reside within that line."

"Hmm. So what does that mean in terms of a wand?" He asked.

"Well, due to the fact that you tie five distinct vampire lines together, I'll probably need to craft something that will focus each separate power. One wood shaft, a handle, perhaps something with crystal or stone, and two cores. The problem will be finding a balance between those..." He trailed off as he approached the shelves and started pulling things down from them. Harry didn't interrupt the man as he perused the room and the pile on the table began getting quite large. "Now let's see."

Harry watched avidly as the man picked up the tools and started to work. He'd mutter to himself every so often, shake his head, and exchange one jar for another. He whittled at the wood, shaving away pieces until it stated to resemble the familiar cylinder of a wand. It had been such a long time since he had one. Vampire magic didn't need a wand to use. Most of it was having enough power and control to do the things he wanted, and the rest was his talent from the bloodlines. There was never a need to use wizard magic, though he felt grateful for being able to use it again.

Ollivander pulled another small cauldron from a shelf. He dumped a vial of sickly yellow looking liquid in, followed by a scale and fang. The substance hissed, releasing a puff of smoke. The man waited a moment for the fizzing that had started to die down before tossing a small stone into it. It hissed once more before the fluid's color changed and it stilled. It, whatever it was, had gone inert. Boxes were opened, and he could see that shining forms of feathers. It was a rainbow of colors. Ambers, greens, crimson, canary yellow, ocean blue, black, white, and colors he didn't even have names for. The feather Ollivander picked was an impossibly perfect shade of red. Not like that two dimensional color that came from a crayon box, but different. It was vibrant and held depth, shaded differently all the way to the edges. He could become fascinated with it.

"What is that?" He didn't realized he had asked the question until Ollivander answered.

"A dragon's feather."

"I didn't know dragon's had feathers."

"Most don't. In fact, I'm sure all the ones that did have been hunted to extinction." That was disappointing. Harry would have loved to have seen the creature that had been part of. It must have been breathtaking. He fell silent once more as Ollivander went back to work.

~..~

"Done!" The prideful shout startled Harry from his sleep. He blinked a few times trying to remember where he was and why he was there.

"Wassat?"

"Your wand, and it is a work of art if I do say so myself." He passed over the wand.

It was slimmer than most, almost fragile looking in appearance. The wood was dark and finely polished, and it's handle was black, an onyx colored stone wrapping around where the handle met the actual wand. His hand tightened around it. It felt perfect. He gave a pleased smile and flicked it. A rain of sparks erupted from the end.

"What is it made out of?"

"The wood is yew, the only compliment to your vampire heritage. The handle is a charcoal sealed with snake venom to keep it from breaking off. The stone is shadow stone. It was used in some rituals back in the day. The core consists of the dragon feather you saw, and the fangs and scales of a Egyptian Winter Asp."

"Egyptian Winter Asp?"

"A magical snake, entirely white in color except for the gold markings down its back. It's considered a sort of sun god, I believe, and the properties of many of the parts support that theory as they work well with magic that uses the sun in some respect."

"Why all the focus on serpents?" Ollivander blinked at him.

"The Anguis Royal line is most prominent. You carry the full weight of the abilities offered by it. Since it is the line of Serpents, you needed a wand that would reflect that strength."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

Harry pays him, says his goodbyes, and is once more on his way, nearly twenty five galleons lighter. He would need to get some more money if he even hoped to get the things he needed.

**Sept, 1, 1942**

He had the compartment to himself on the train, chasing away the others with frigid glares and cool comments. The door slid open once more, and the one who walked in was no older than him. In looks at least. A fifth year by all appearances. Harry could taste the darkness on his magic though. Some one had been playing in the forbidden arts. It wasn't yet strong enough for others to feel, just barely a trace, but his other side, his vampire side, could feel as if he had just used a dark spell. The other took a seat across from him, offering a small mocking smile. Harry gave one back.

"Jasper Cole." He offered his hand. The other gave him a measuring look before taking it.

"Tom Riddle."

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A/N: Harry didn't live through thousands of years in a linear fashion. He jumped from one year to an entirely different era. This chapter was just meant to touch on the important points in his life. ie. he didn't live from 480BC all the way to 1942, but skipped maybe a few hundred years here or twenty there.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A Touch of Evil**_

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"_Thou art all ice. Thy kindness freezes"._

_~ King Richard (William Shakespeare)_

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**Sept 1, 1942**

**Welcoming Feast**

Tom Riddle was an interesting character, Harry had decided. The way he moved was entirely different from normal people. He had an even, graceful gate, and he held himself as though he held much more power than it appeared he did. He sat among the others of his year, yet he was separate from them. Harry could tell, even from his place at the very back of the hall, that the others regarded him with a keen sense of caution. The perfect badge he wore seemed to shine brightly against the black of the robes he wore. Harry paid no attention to the sorting of the first years, preferring to examine the rest of the older students surrounding the fifth year perfect.

"Now, as most of you know, the on going war has lead to many students coming and going to different schools. Due to several attacks over the summer, we have several new students that need to be sorted. I ask that you welcome them and help them adjust in these harsh times." Dippet gestured to his deputy to begin sorting.

"Arsia, Vallis." A boy, blond, with dark blue eyes took place on the stool. He appeared to be the same age as the fifth years or a younger looking sixth year. "Ravenclaw!"

"Ascraeus, Regio" The named student, another boy who couldn't be any older than twelve took a seat and had the hat placed on his head. There was only a short pause before the hat belted out, "Gryffindor!"

"Bode, Callisto." She was the only girl among the students who had been affected by what ever attack had been staged. Her hair, a dark brown, hung the same length of his own, which was down just past her shoulders. She sat primly on the stool her hands folded in her lap and her posture straight, pureblood princess by all looks. The deputy placed the worn hat on her head. "Ravenclaw!"

"Cole, Jasper!" He sat down and allowed the tattered hat to be placed on his head. It squirmed around on hie head, big brim flexing and twisting.

"_My, Mr. Potter, I knew you'd be back. Now, now, don't be so surprised. I'm a sentient magical object. Did you really think that your trip would go unnoticed? Though, I would have been left guessing as to _when_ exactly you were if you hadn't come here. Ah, you're thinking of time in a rigid aspect, that it can only go forward, not so true, after all, you are here in the past that happened before your birth."_

"Are you going to sort me yet, hat?"

"_Impatient child!"_ The hat huffed. _"Do I assume that you'll let me place you in the correct house this time? Slytherin will do you well."_

"As you will, hat."

"_Take care then, not-so-young snake._

"Slytherin!" Harry gracefully pulled himself off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table, noting the subtle gesture from Tom Riddle that parted the students across from him, making room for Harry to sit. He slid into place, feeling the intense looks he gathered. It seemed that, as the new student, he would need to be evaluated.

"Hello, Jasper."

"Hello, Tom."

"I had figured that you would be in Slytherin."

"Oh? How did you know, I could have ended up in Hufflepuff." Tom snorted.

"Out of the other three houses, you chose that one? No, you're Slytherin through and through."

"Well, thank you. I suppose, however, I know that I'm a threat to your careful structure." The comment was said in an offhand matter and drew a raised brow from the other. "Now don't give me that look. I have to say that I'm Slytherin enough to know exactly who is the leader here." He tapped the table in front of him. It was a moment, but Tom nodded in agreement. There wasn't any point in denying something that had become obvious.

"Fair enough." He said. Food appeared on the table. Harry only took small portions. Since coming to this time and taking the blood supplement, he had noticed a decrease in appetite not only in human food consumption, but in blood as well. He was actually down to taking the potion once a week and eating tiny portions of food only once a day. Initially he had expected to fall sick because of it. He was glad he didn't. He noted the careful scrutiny his plate got.

"So, is Hogwarts an interesting school?"

"At times." He answered noncommittally. "Where were you schooled?"

"A small private academy outside of Dover." He lied easily.

"I wasn't aware that there was an academy there."

"It is very family oriented. All of the students there were relatives, and it was small, all of the seven years couldn't have been more than fifty students together." He said and then took a bite of food.

The conversation continued on, if not a little stilted. Harry tried to keep to as few as lies as possible so as not to get caught in them later. He did, however, carefully avoid the topic of his blood purity, though he did drop enough comments that many of them would assume he was a pureblood despite his muggle-sounding name. Which, when asked about, he claimed that he would prefer not to talk about it as his father was from a broken line that ended up disowning him. That ended all questions quickly. The feast ended and all the students were escorted out by their perfects. Tom came along side him as they walked down the hall.

"I've been assigned to be your guide for the first few days and to help you settle in. As it is, you'll be my roommate."

"That's acceptable."

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**Oct**

Jasper, as he'd become accustomed to being called, fit in well with the other students. Despite his late application, he had gotten in the classes he requested. In fact, they hadn't even requested any type of school records. It was quite the coincidence when he shared all of his classes with his school guide, Tom. He'd been introduced to several of the Slytherins personally, all of which he had assumed to be Tom's main group. He was only given a single name to address them by though. Avery, Nott, Malfoy, Black, and Lestrange.

Presently he was in transfiguration with the Ravenclaws with Dumbledore lecturing on the difficulties of animating objects enough to pass a living things, like that which were used in the creation of golems. Jasper was taking notes, his hand moving with the words spoken, but his mind on an entirely different matter. He was becoming a mite annoyed with the constant surveillance Tom and his Slytherin gang had on him. It was like they were waiting for him to screw up to have something to hold over his head.

"And now we move on to the true purpose of this lecture, Animators." Jasper perked up at that. This could be interesting. "For the average wizard, what they can animate into a life like state is limited. Sometimes this limitation comes from size, complexity, or the material the object is made out of. An animator though, doesn't have those particular limitations. As long as they have the power and control to hold an animation, they can accomplish many things. That is what makes them such dangerous enemies to have. Children's toys can become an army, and stone gargoyles can become nearly invincible soldiers."

He gave a casual flick of his wand and the box that had been situated against the wall lifted and floated to his desk. He opened the lid and pulled out a small toy mouse. He said a quick incantation, tapped his wand on the mouse, and the small creature seemed to come to life, though retained its toy-like qualities. After the quick demonstration, Dumbledore let the animation fall away and passes the mice around the room. Jasper waved his wand, not really concentrating on the spell, but watching several other students. He already knew that he didn't have talent in animation. He turned his gaze to Tom who was sitting in the row ahead of him, two seats to the left. Riddle was watching one of the other Slytherins closely. Parkinson, Jasper believed.

A thoughtful look passed onto the other's face as the little mouse came to life with the same ease as the professor's had. Parkinson, for his part, looked momentarily stunned before quickly releasing the spell and went back to trying to animate the mouse. Looked like Parkinson had some talent. His gaze drifted back to Tom. There was a thin smile on his face, barely more than a smirk. Riddle was apparently pleased with that. Then, almost as if he felt Jasper's watch, he turned slowly. His eyes touched on Jasper's face before flicking to the desktop where they narrowed with suspicion. Jasper looked down. His mouse was moving.

"Well done, Mr. Cole." Dumbledore's voice made him tense.

"Thank you, Professor."

"I think you might have real talent in transfiguration." The smile he was given raised his hackles. He had the feeling that Dumbledore was going to watch him closely now.

A chime sounded, signaling the end of class. The students packed up all their belongings and headed for the door. Jasper could feel those twinkling eyes on his back as he left.

~..~

Jasper had tucked himself away in the corner of the library. It was actually named Salazar's Corner by many of the students, mostly due to the context of the books in this particular section. He remembered several of the titles from his own time. They were restricted then, and weren't even allowed out of the library. Well, through the proper channels at least. Right now he was he was nearly sprawled across his chair, a plush green velvet covered seat, with _"Dark Arts: Invention or Intention"_ propped up on one leg. He sensed someone take the seat next to him but didn't look up.

"Cole."

"Riddle."

"Interesting reading choice." He commented.

"Not really. Magic is magic."

"A very open minded view for a light wizard." He said, referring to the stories he had told about his parents, and that they were Aurors who'd fought against many dark wizards when they were alive. A smile, chilling, spread over his face.

"Light? A Slytherin Light Wizard." He mused aloud. "Now isn't that an oxymoron." A dark brow rose, but Tom didn't say anything. "I'm wondering why exactly it is you're here, Tom. You've studiously avoided me since that incident in transfiguration a week ago."

"Perhaps."

"Hmm." Jasper nodded. "I would be curious as to why, if I didn't know better."

"And you know better?" Tom questioned with a touch of incredulity.

"Indeed." A pain hit him in his stomach and quickly climbed his throat, making his mouth dry. He grimaced and took to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I have something I need to do." He turned on his heel and quickly strode away. Tom watched him go, keeping his face straight despite his shock. Jasper's eyes, which had before reminded him of the killing curse, had turned a brilliant, shining gold.

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**Nov**

November was going by in a monotonous slew of classes. Dumbledore's constant watch had faded over the past weeks, but Tom had taken his place. He'd actually been followed a multitude of times on his evening wanderings, and if it weren't for his vampire senses he wouldn't have known they were there. The other Slytherins had pretty much black listed him. He was persona non-grata within the dorms and common room. He slept less now, only a few hours just on the verge of dawn, and his eating habits had fallen even further, almost down to only a few bites of food a day. He wondered if it was the potion that he was taking that was causing this.

Jasper ducked around several corners and darted down a short corridor before ducking into a classroom. Light footsteps flitted past the door. He waited a few minutes before peaking out the door and looking down the hall. He moved silently back the way he came and down a side hall that he hadn't even glanced at as he passed. He went to the fifth door, hissed a spell to unlock it, and slipped it. A cauldron simmered over a barely existing flame, just enough heat to keep it active until the final ingredient could be added. He stepped over to the table and picked up the silver knife. He slipped on thick hide gloves and opened a jar full of razor sharp red grass. Bloodgrass wasn't hard to get if you knew where to find it, but it was dangerous to handle. He cut it up, slicing vertically along the fibers.

He put it into the cauldron strip by strip. The potion, which had been a murky white, changed to a shimmering auburn. He stirred, six times clockwise and twice in a figure eight. The red became more pronounced. He conjured a stand to hold two dozen vials and placed each of his vials in the holder. He filled each carefully and, once he put a stopper on top, put them into a tightly warded pouch. The potion, his potion, wasn't difficult, but it was a tedious thing, taking two weeks to brew. He made quick work of cleaning up. His proximity wards warned him a person had entered the hall.

"Nox." The lights went out. He pressed against the door, listening closely. The shoes made a distinct sound on the stone floors. What exactly was Tom Riddle doing wandering through the halls?

~..~

He was in the library again when Tom once more approached him. Jasper had sensed him as soon as he had entered the library. The darkness in him was more pronounced now. He'd been practicing. Jasper book-marked the page he was reading and closed it just as the other was sat across from him. He folded his hands and crossed his legs at the ankle.

"Hello again, Tom."

"I've been requested to give you an invitation to Professor Slughorn's private gathering this weekend."

"Gathering?" Tom's expression drifted into one of mild disgust.

"He calls it the Slug Club, a little gathering for those he believes are... socially elite, perhaps, is the phrase?"

"Social elite? Why me then?"

"He finds you an interesting study. Word from the teachers about your high practical performance has made it back to him."

"I assume you are in the club?"

"I am." He was graced with a suspicious look.

"What time is this meeting?"

"7pm on Saturday."

"I'll find you before then."

Tom nodded and left. Jasper watched him go with a curious gaze.

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**Dec**

Jasper followed Tom to the Slug Club gathering which was held in a semi-private room not far off from the potions classroom. There were a handful of students, but the majority of the people were friends of the Professor. They mingled about the room chatting quietly. Slughorn himself practically flounced around the room, his boisterous attitude and voice carrying through the small space. He bounced over once he saw Tom and himself enter.

"Ah, Tom, so good to see you! And you brought Mr. Cole as well. May I call you Jasper?"

"Might as well."

"Good, good. You can call me Horus. Come, come, meet some of my associates." He led them over to a small group. "This is Charles and Millie. Twins you see, not to mention they work in the liaison office that tries to keep the discontent between us and the veela nation to a minimum. Fascinating really. This is Derrick, he often uses Unspeakable devices in conjunction with muggle artifacts. He has quite a few tales about how that's worked out, eh old boy?" He asked jovially. The man, Derrick, just made a noise in the back of his throat that could imply agreement.

"Now, why don't you tell me about your self, Jasper."

"I'm not sure what you want to know, sir. I'm really not that facinating of a person at all."

"Nonsense. Surely you have some interesting hobbies. As your head of house, I've heard the stories of your sneaking out at night. A midnight rendezvous perhaps?"

"I'm afraid it's just insomnia, sir." He laughed it away. "Walking helps."

"Insomnia? Well, that's not healthy. You could have asked the nurse for a sleeping draught." Jasper was aware of Tom's critical gaze, though Horus was not.

"I've no taste for sleeping draughts."

"Make you ill, do they?"

"Something like that."

He wandered away from Slughorn at an opportune moment to meet the rest of the small crowd. Most of the night was spent in Tom's company, as he was the only student he actually knew beyond a name. He and his fellow Slytherin opted out of the gathering early, both having quietly made their distaste for such things known to the other.

~..~

Charms was usually a straight forward class. They were given an incantation, wand movements, and an object to try the spell on. There was little research or reading necessary in the overall, there never really had been, even for essays. So, it came as a slight surprise when the professor assigned a project for pairs where they would attempt to create their own spell or magical object that performed a specific purpose. The spell didn't have to be performed, as the actual creation was far more complicated, but the students would write out a proposed theory, possible incantations, and possible wand movements from the spells they had learned already. The magical object option would be graded on originality, functionality, and practicality.

"Now to assign you partners." He said jovially, readily ignoring the groans that issued from the students. "Slytherins first. Malfoy and Lestrange. Black and Nott. Rosier and Avery. Cole and Riddle."

Jasper tuned his head to look over at the student he'd been partnered with. Tom looked back up at him. Well, he decided, it would be interesting at least. The Slytherins couldn't ignore him anymore if he had to work with their leader. The rest of the students had been divided up without any cross house pairings. The chime sounded for the end of class and Jasper left out into the halls to wait from Tom and walk with him to their next class.

"Tom." He said, gaining the other's attention as they started walking. "When do you want to meet to work out a schedule?"

"During our after lunch free period in the common room."

"I'll see you then." He nodded to him as he walked away, his quick strides carrying him faster towards class.

~..~

Tom was waiting for him in front of the front of the fireplace, staring into the fire that was roaring in an attempt to warm the cool dungeon. Jasper dropped into the chair across from him.

"How do you want to do this?"

"What times do you use for homework?" Tom asked.

"My after lunch free period or the hours just after curfew before I go to sleep."

"That works well, and with our schedules being the same, we won't have any conflicting classes. The time between our final classes and curfew will work perfectly."

"Yeah. Did he give an exact date for it to be due?"

"Mmm...the twenty-first of April."

"Are we going to do spell theory or magical object?"

"Preferably a magical object."

"A challenge?" He asked knowingly and got a slight upturn of Tom's lips. "Do you want to meet up here, tomorrow, at the same time?"

"Yes. We'll decide the particulars of our project tomorrow. I have some where to be right now." He stood and gave a curt farewell before disappearing from the common room.

~..~

Tom had to admit that he was a little disappointed with the project they had been assigned. With his tendency to make things far more complex then necessary, he had no doubt that his time to search the school for his ancestor's chamber would be, at best case scenario, halved. At worst, a few hours a week. Even still, he had no intention of skiving on his efforts for the project. Just as Jasper had said, it would be a challenge. Now, all he had to do was decide exactly, what it was he wanted to make. Practical uses... what would he want a magical object for? It would take a bit of thought. He climbed the stairs up to the third flood and began his search once more, carefully examining everything for any snake emblems.

~..~

Jasper and Tom met once more at the common room fireplace just after lunch.

"Any ideas on what you want to do?" Jasper asked.

"Hmm... A device that recognized magical artifacts? That would be useful." He said, thinking on how many artifacts, especially those well known, had gone missing.

"Wouldn't we have to have enough information on specific objects for it to work?" Tom tapped his chin in thought. That was a good point. Any object with that function would need very detailed information, and with the many artifacts that went missing, even from only a hundred years ago, it's purpose would be severely limited.

"I concede the point, though you have to admit, even finding a handful of, say, the founder's well known items would be useful."

"We could do that as a side project. It would be interesting." He agreed. A stretch of silence passed between them. Then Jasper's face practically lit up with his idea. "How about a compass to find unplottable locations?"

"How would that work? They're unplottable."

"Yeah, but wizards and witches always name the homes they have that are unplottable. They have to. So, as long as you know the name of the place, the compass would lead you to it."

"The arithmancy and runes would be complex..." He trailed off in thought.

"You do like a challenge." Jasper practically smiled at him.

"Indeed."

~..~

The holidays were a quiet affair. The Slytherins, mostly following their family traditions instead of muggle ones, had gone home to spend the winter solstice with relatives and participate in the rituals that took place at those times. Only Jasper and Tom remained of the upper year Slytherins, and only one other, a second year, were the occupants of the dorms. It made for a quiet holiday. Without any students to clutter it up, Tom and he were able to work on their project in the common room.

"Tom, you can't use a symbolic rune for that part, it conflicts with the arithmancy."

"But if we write it out, even in the Norse runes, it will throw the calculations off."

"You've got to many letters. Shorten it. It doesn't have to be exact."

"It does for the linking sequence."

"Not really. You just have to be careful with it. Here." Jasper took the paper and quickly wrote down a small set of runes. "That should complete the same purpose, and we don't even have to mess with the arithmancy."

"_Weave?_" He read blankly. "I suppose it could work. It does complete the purpose and it fits into the sequence we have."

"Just admit it, I'm a genius."

"And modest too." He muttered. "No, I think your some one with entirely to much time on their hands."

"Don't be like that, you're way better than me at arithmancy." He smiled while he said it.

"Which is why you are doing none of it."

"You going to the last Hogsmead before Christmas?" He suddenly changed topic.

"It was a thought, why?"

"Curious. I still haven't been yet."

"You want me to be your guide there too?"

"Why not?"

"Yes, why not." He sighed. "Tomorrow then." He scowled as Jasper leaned in to look at the parchment. It was almost as bad as having some one read over his shoulder. Not that anyone dared such anymore. "What are you doing?"

Intense green eyes rose to meet his. The breath in Tom's throat suddenly halted. He hadn't realized that Jasper had been so close. The closest any one had ever really been in a long time. It was strange. The uneasiness that was always present when some one else invaded his space was strangely absent. A door closing brought them both back into themselves and leaning back in their respective seats. Whatever that had been, it was gone now, and as ever curious as Tom was, he was wary about exploring this incident. Jasper took a slow breath and stood from his chair.

"I'll see you tomorrow at about nine then."

~..~

Hogsmead was fairly busy with the students that were doing some last minute shopping. Tom was leading him around, pointing out the shops and what they were for. The pubs were so far the most interesting. The Three Broomsticks and Hogshead were, he was informed, a good meeting place – if a bit obvious in its intentions. The patrons of Hogshead tended to be a little darker than most, and were the ones most often seen going into Knockturn Alley. The Three Broomsticks catered more often to the students. They'd chosen the latter as a place to get something to eat for lunch.

"What do you think?" It was the first time that Tom had actually sounded interested in the answer.

"It's perfect as a student diversion." That was no answer at all, but Tom agreed.

"The apothecary is especially interesting. He owns a shop near Diagon." That meant Knockturn, Jasper thought. It also meant that the apothecary probably had some very interesting ingredients. He'd have to check that out. His supply of bloodgrass was running low, and he didn't want to kill the patch he'd been gathering from by cutting too much of it.

"Really?"

"Yes, he even imports from the mainland to his main shop. The quality is fairly good, especially on the long distance imports." Their orders, both fish and chips, were set before them.

"This is good." Jasper commented.

"One of the better places in Hogsmead." Tom agreed after a moment.

"Are you doing any shopping today?"

"No."

"Is there anything else interesting around here."

"Not really. All that's left is an old run down shack that's falling apart. The rest are homes for the few residents around here. Hogsmead is good for common items and, like you said, a diversion but not much else. Most would prefer going to the Triad Alleys for anything of interest."

"Have you been down Leisure Alley?"

"Once or twice." He admitted. That particular Alley didn't interest him much. The entrance to the Alley was made mostly of various bars that catered to different tastes, but the end of it was the red lamp district. Neither of which he had much stomach for.

"Entertaining?"

"In some aspects."

"Not your thing?" Tom shook his head. They finished their meal and headed back to the castle to get some more work on their project so that the whole day wasn't a waste.

~..~

Christmas passed with little note as none of the three remaining Slytherins even practiced the holiday (though they shared greetings), nor did they join the other student who remained in the great hall for the Christmas feast. Jasper had stealthily disappeared to the kitchen for dinner instead of going without. Of course, he hadn't expected the person he was sneaking away from to be sitting in the kitchen enjoying his own dinner. So, with a semi-resigned sigh, he too a seat across from Tom at the small table that the elves had set up and asked for a sandwich.

"I wasn't aware that you knew where the kitchen's were." Tom tossed him a slightly suspicious look.

"You find a lot of things on late night wanderings."

"And how did you happen to stumble across this particular room."

"Well, I asked one of the elves. Such helpful creatures." Tom gave a derisive snort. "How's the arithmancy formula coming?"

"The first chain has been finished. I'll be working on the sequence to identify by name next."

"I owl ordered a generic compass from that trinket shop in Diagon. It should arrive by Thursday. I'll start work on that when it gets here."

"You'll be organizing the ritual to set the magic then?"

"Yeah. I already have the basics set up. With the runes we're using we'll have to do it on the new moon. That gives us a week less than the others if we want to turn it in on time."

"Have you started the side project?"

"The runes are all written out, but I'll need to make the codes for the artifacts were looking for." He gave a momentary pause to glance around him for any obvious listeners. "I don't have the knowledge to set the spell though." That was a lie, he did have the knowledge, but he shouldn't with the circumstances surrounding it.

"Why?"

"The anchoring spell necessary is one of the banned Dark Arts spells. It was black listed back in the 1200's when that time's attempted Dark Lord used it to track down and assassinate all of his political enemies. Even the spell's name is censored now."

"Do you have any ideas on where to find it?"

"Only if you have Dark Arts books that predate that time. The Black's might still have it since they're such an old family, but I doubt they'd admit to it." Tom nodded and had his head tilted in thought. Jasper had little doubt that the Slytherin was trying to think of a way to get his hands on that particular tome. It would take an amazing effort to actually find a book containing that particular spell.

"Would there be any references in other books to narrow down its name?"

"If you could track down a 1263 edition of _"Grimm's Spell and Curse Composition"_ that would give you a name and all the books it was ever printed it. Or if you could find the 1017 copy of _"Brigg's Cookbook"_ that would have it as well. I've never seen that one so I'm not sure all that it has in it besides a spells name and description."

"The chances of finding either of those?"

"Slim, I'll admit, but you'd likely have an easier time getting your hands on those than the one that isn't even supposed to exist anymore. You still might have to talk to one of the old lines. In fact, that should be a starting point."

"I'll try to look into it on my end." Jasper nodded and quickly finished off the food that had been set in front of him

"Merry Christmas, Tom." And he was gone.

"Merry Christmas, Jasper." He said softly.

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**Jan**

With the end of the holiday break came a flood of return students. It also came time to find a new study place as the common room was no longer applicable, and the library was becoming more and more popular for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. In light of that, Jasper was determined to find a new place to study that was secluded from the rest of the student, and even teacher, population. That is what, presently, had him casually strolling the halls. The lower floors were out of the question, as those were high traffic, and while the dungeons were far more extensive than many realize, it was easy to get turned around. That meant that he was stuck with the upper floors, excluding any of the towers. So, as of now, he was pacing back and forth through a hall, trying to determine which of the used classrooms they would be stuck with and if he should risk using his more advanced locking charms as he used for his private potions lab or not.

"I need a room." He said to himself. "A secure room, hidden from every one else. I wonder if there's one big enough to do the anchoring ritual in." The sudden appearance of a door had almost startled him badly enough to cast several, very illegal, curses. "Bloody magical castle." He muttered before pulling open the door.

The room was large, with partially mirror walls. Trinkets and baubles were stacked in the corners as if they'd been pushed off to the sides. A worn cabinet, half-hidden by a pile in front of it was tucked against the wall. Jasper stepped into the room. He knocked aside several of the bibelots with his foot. It looked like a cruddy storage room. Aside from the junk though, this room would be perfect. A half-smile came on to his face. Now, how to explain this to Tom well enough that he would follow. He disappeared from the room and to the library where he knew Tom would be at this time of day.

"Tom, I found a place for us to work." He sat across the table from him. Tom didn't look up from his book, but he did gesture for the other to continue. "Well, it would be no fun to tell you. Come on."

"I'm doing something, Jasper." Was his half-minded reply. Jasper sighed. He plucked the quill from Tom's hand, slid the parchment off to the side, and leaned across the table.

"Dear Tom, you work entirely to hard."

"Fine. Show me this place." He packed up his belongings and followed Jasper. When they arrived at the door-less corridor, Tom graced Jasper with a flat look. "There isn't a door here."

"There was! It just appeared."

"You didn't happen to get lost did you?" His tone was full of disapproval. Jasper made a face at him and started pacing again. "Pacing isn't going to find the – well, that's interesting." He looked at the door that appeared. He opened the door and was quickly followed inside.

"See, perfect isn't it."

"Yes, yes. Well done, Jasper. Do you want a biscuit, or can I wait for your next trick."

~..~

They were bother working quietly, enjoying the peace of the room that was hidden from others. Tom had discovered the name while researching detailed information on the founders. The Room of Requirement. Jasper supposed he could see the sense of the name but had commented, more than once, that is was extremely unoriginal.

"I don't think we should turn this into the teacher." Tom had commented while stringing the second chain of arithmancy.

"Why's that?" Jasper looked up from his rune thread.

"The Professor will probably hand it over to the ministry as a dangerous magical object, and I can only guess at all the interest we'll get."

"So you, what, want to switch over to the theory project?"

"No. I'll talk to the professor after class tomorrow about it, ask if the knowledge would stay just between us and if we can destroy it after we get scored."

"You want to destroy it?"

"No, I think we should claim to destroy it."

"And if the professor want's to watch?"

"We destroy something else."

"I can agree with that. We can make a secondary device, or we can keep all the work and make a second at a later date and get rid of the original. Say we burned the notes?"

"Let's do that. We can make another at a different time. That way we won't get caught with it." Jasper nodded to that in agreement.

"Have you done any of the arithmancy for our side project?"

"Only the basic structure for the rune sequence you've done."

"Have you decided what artifacts you want to find. I've only got Slytherin's locket so far."

"Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's diadem for sure."

"Nothing from Gryffindor?"

"Gryffindor had a sword and that's been kept in the founder's vault. Supposedly at any rate. I believe that the Headmaster's are told where that's kept as it's the only founder's item that it's location is known."

"So... nothing from Gryffindor then. Diadem and cup, I'll need to find out more about them. You know any books they're in."

"Talk to the Gray Lady about the diadem. She's Rowena's daughter so she should know enough about it to give you some information. The cup though.... I think I have a book over here some where.... Here it is." He handed off a book. There wasn't a title, and the cover was cracked and worn brown leather that was crumbling around the spine. It looked older than anything he'd seen in the school library. That begged the particular question: where did Tom get the book? He wasn't going to ask.

~..~

Jasper flopped back against the couch that had appeared some time between now and their last visit to the room. He was getting bored with constantly writing out sequences. It was so... repetitive. He needed some variation to his day. He turned on his side to look at his charms partner. The teen was bent over his work with a look of concentration on his face. Tom just didn't know how to relax.

"Tom?"

"Hmm?"

"Want to duel?" The scribble of the quill stopped and Tom turned to look over his shoulder.

"Duel?"

"Yeah. I'm bored." Tom gave him a quizzical look for a moment but got to his feet and moved to the center of the room, drawing his wand as he went.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Jasper's grin was feral as he also moved forward.

They both gave a short bow and fell into a dueling stance. Tom launched the first spell. Jasper twisted away and cast his own back. What followed next was a violent volley of spells and curses that lit the room in a bright array of color. Summoned objects were thrown and repelled and that swiftly evolved into conjuration and animation of various objects. A cutting curse tore through Jasper's arm, but the vampire barely even flinched.

A well timed _reducto_ blasted a chair into Tom's legs, setting him to stumble long enough for Jasper's preternatural speed to bring him close enough to pin the other to the near-by wall. He held Tom's wand arm pinned at the wrist and his body weight to hold him. The dark that clung to Tom's aura suddenly reached out and twisted through his own. Eyes, now gold, stilled any movement that the pinned teen might have made. There was a hunger in that look that he didn't recognize. Jasper leaned forward ever so slightly, an intense focus on the one before him. The alarm they'd set up to warn them of the approaching curfew sounded. Jasper pulled away quickly.

"I'll... see you later." He disappeared through the door, leaving a disheveled Tom behind.

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**Feb**

Jasper was studiously avoiding coming into physical contact with Tom. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened when they'd dueled, but he wasn't about to have a repeat. Tom's dark was enticing, scarily so. He'd never encountered any thing like it. It had been overwhelming and enclosing and, dear Merlin, attractive. The incident, though, had never been mentioned. Neither even hinted that it had happened, but there was a slight awkwardness in the times they were alone. Jasper knew that Tom was trying to figure out what he was. The knowledge didn't bother him. Tom knew how to keep his mouth shut when it counted.

"Jasper." Tom called from the other side of their dorm room. The vampire looked up from the floor. "I don't know exactly what happened then, but you need to move on. I won't have the project suffer just because of an single episode."

"Yeah." He looked back to the floor. Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one that wanted to toss the other to the floor and do who-knows-what. Even so, he'd try to ignore it the best he could.

~..~

It was two weeks into February before things turned back into a sense of normalcy for Jasper. The Slytherins were far more accepting, going so far as to be on the verge of friendly. The other houses had taken a neutral stance towards him, deeming him unlike the normal Slytherin, and therefore a non-hostile serpent. The Gryffindor's had gone so far as to call him a snake without fangs, though they stayed far out of his way. Apparently they thought that even as 'fang-less' he was better off left alone.

The unplottable compass was progressing quickly, and only the final sequence of arithmancy had to be figured our before the ritual structure could be completed. The side project was going smoothly as well. Jasper had completed all the rune strings, and all that was left was for Tom to locate the anchoring ritual. Their dueling sessions had picked up once more, both exchanging the spells that they learned. Overall, the month had been an uneventful time.

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**March**

They were dueling again, a furious firing of spells back and forth to take up time and vent their frustrations. Dumbledore had been following them and having students keep tabs on them. The professor was suspicious about something, but neither had done some thing to draw the man's attention. They'd lost their tails, of course. They were Slytherins after all, but it was quickly becoming intolerable. For Jasper, who was more of a physical type, he'd almost severely curse the one's he'd caught. It had only been Tom's steadying hand that had stopped him.

Tom lashed out, a whip of flame darting towards him. Jasper dodged it with quick steps, slinging a table towards him with only a hand gesture. The fire whip faded away and Jasper went on the offensive. He cast a series of cutting hexes in quick succession, moving in a wide arc around his target. He hadn't counted on Tom using dark arts. A vicious curse took him in the shoulder, blood spattering on the wall. Jasper looked up to meet red eyes. It was the first time he'd seen a physical manifestation of dark arts use. He could sense the escalation in violence before it happened. It was like a scent in the room. Dark spells came soaring across the distance between them. The dark in Tom's aura followed, lashing out as if to strike. His own dark came out to play, coaxing, pulling on his opponent's. He knew Tom had felt it by the widening of his eyes. Always before he'd been careful, keeping his own aura carefully restrained. It didn't matter any more though, he no longer had control.

He met burning crimson with glowing gold, and he charged. Jasper dipped underneath the curses, his body contorting in almost impossible ways to avoid the bright beams of color that flew toward him. Fire seared over his torso, burning a hole through his robes and shirt. He threw himself forward in a blur of speed, tackling the other to the floor. The yew and phoenix feather wand skittered across the floor. Jasper held the other down, straddling his waist and holding wrists in an iron hold above his head against the floor. Tom wasn't moving unless he allowed it.

There was only a moments pause where Jasper took the time to peer down at his captive. Pale skin, dark hair, and burning eyes. He leaned forward, savagely claiming Tom's lips in a wild kiss. He released those pale wrists to brace himself, and Tom's hands wound into his black hair, pulling harshly. There was nothing gentle here. No sweet words. No gentle touches, and no hesitation. Jasper tasted his own blood as teeth split open his tongue. Tom ripped at the tattered remains of the robe, the fabric tearing away with a rough sound. He sinuously moved over the body beneath him, drawing a guttural sound from his quarry.

Jasper shrugged away his shirt and quickly set to work on the robes and top of Tom's. It was only when that pale chest was exposed that everything stopped suddenly. The dark retreated, and they were both left panting on the floor. Jasper stared down at that chest, not with horror or pity, but with understanding. Monster. It was carved into his flesh. A scar for life. He looked up into those eyes, the red since faded away. He looked back down and let his fingers trace the marks with awe and not a little anger. How dare some one do this?

He must have spoke aloud, for Tom answered – surprisingly.

"It was when I was a boy, before I came to Hogwarts."

"I'll kill them."

"They are already dead." There was satisfaction there, and Jasper couldn't blame him in the least. There was nothing wrong in finding contentment in vindication.

"Did you make them suffer?"

"As much as I was able."

"Good." And he leaned back down for another kiss, pleased when Tom didn't pull away in the slightest. He tasted good, all that control with just a touch of evil.

~..~

"It's done." Tom announced on the final day of March. He'd completed the final arithmancy sequence and all that was left to do to make their unplottable compass was the final ritual to set the magic in it.

"That's good. Did you manage to talk to the professor?"

"Yes, and he agreed with our ideas considering what it was that we were trying to do. Naturally, he showed a fair amount of skepticism, and he even said that if our object didn't work practically, he'd accept the theory as it was a difficult idea." Tom snorted. "As if I could possibly fail at something I wanted."

"Careful Tom, your ego is showing." Jasper turned the page of the book he was reading. Riddle sure did find the most interesting things to read. This particular book went in depth on the fundamental difference between dark and light magic. He discovered that, if he had remained a human, his natural energy base would be neutral, purely gray. Of course, as a vampire, this point was moot because he was naturally dark now. Even so, it was absolutely fascinating.

"You're still reading that? Even by my standards I find that book dry."

"No appreciation among the youth for informative texts."

"I'll have you know, that you're one of those 'youths' too." Jasper inclined his head. He wasn't, really, but no one was supposed to know that.

"Here's another." He passed a book over. "You already know how your magic is inclined, why bother reading about it?"

"Did you know that those with dark magic inclined cores often exhibit a physical manifestation of that inclination, or that if those who were so light inclined practiced dark magic it becomes a taint in their aura, often leading to insanity or other mental disorders including paranoia, schizophrenia, and multiple personality disorder?" He flipped a few pages further back. "And were you aware that keeping those with dark magic cores from practicing the art can cause their magic to eat at itself and render the person a squib. _Or_ that the inclusion of creature blood, of either magical orientation, to a wizard's blood line will sway the magic to a neutral focus and stop the development of either a physical manifestation of the trait or insanity from occurring?"

"And what of those dark wizards who are driven insane by practicing the dark arts?" Tom asked, quite a bit more curious now. He had read the book before, once, several years ago. There were a few more pages turned before Jasper answered, reading the passage directly.

"_Dark Arts spells are less refined, magically, than the spells that are considered light. Because of the rawness in casting these spells, all the impurities that often come with spell and charm use are more pronounced. While a dark magic inclined person is resistant to these impurities, they are not immune. Without the proper practice of cleansing periods (see ritual section p. 325) the impurities build and will have detrimental effects on the wizard or witch in practice. This is the cause of the more well known sickness Dark Arts Addiction (found in dark inclined families) and the root of the Dark Arts Restriction Act in 1687. There are, however, exceptions to the necessity of these purifying rituals (see bloodlines and their purposes p. 148)."_

"Exceptions?"

"Figures that that is the only part of that you pick up on." Jasper sighed. "Yes, exceptions.A bound familiar will keep the... impurities from building up on your magical core. Surprisingly there aren't any detrimental effects on the familiar. They are often left with a higher intelligence and a life span that accommodates their wizard better. Another is to have a dark wizard have no less than one-quarter blood relation to a dark creature. That means that you need at least one grandparent who is a full blooded dark creature, incase you didn't know Tom."

"I am aware." He looked lost in thought for a moment. "Does it, perhaps say how to stop a physical manifestation?"

"No, but as far as I know there isn't any real way to keep it from happening all together. A bound familiar will stop it up until you start slinging about unforgivables or dark rituals, because once you cross into that the impurities are to high. It will fade eventually, as it would normally. You would just have to be careful... though if I need to tell you to be careful when it comes to unforgivables, you're a lost cause."

"Where did you learn about that?"

"Stories." He answered and then went back to reading.

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**April**

He'd found it! The Chamber of Secrets at last! The fact that the entrance was in a girls bathroom was a bit disturbing though, clever, but disturbing. He hissed the sink closed and decided to come back at another time. It was already late, and his presence would be missed soon. He didn't need anyone questioning his where abouts, especially now that he'd finally accomplished this. Five years of searching had finally paid off. He slipped out of the bathroom, easing the door closed so it didn't close with a bang. He'd return once he was able and find out what it was exactly that his ancestor had hidden down there. He never noticed the eyes glowing from the shadows, wide with sudden realization.

~..~

Jasper stared at the quickly retreating from of Tom. He took off down the opposite way, heading towards the room of requirement. He couldn't go back to the dorms right now. He slammed the door behind him as he made it into the room and collapsed against it and slid to the floor. How had he missed it? Forgotten? Tom Riddle, Voldemort. He'd missed it entirely. Dear Merlin, he'd been snogging Voldemort! Then again, he supposed it hardly mattered. It wasn't like there was any one around right now to be disappointed in him. And... well, it wasn't like Tom was a bad kisser or anything either.

"I can't believe it. I like kissing Voldemort." A hysterical giggle curled up his throat. "He's tried to kill me four times, and the best I can come up with is he's a good kisser." Never mind that Tom's dark was absolutely intoxicating.

He rested his head in his hands. Things were going to get awkward again. Or were they? He tilted his head back against the door to look at the ceiling. He could honestly say that he liked Tom. The other was clever and good company. He had a wicked sense of humor and the same problem with authority. Tom wasn't Voldemort either. Not really, not yet. For now he was Tom. The rest... well that could be dealt with later he supposed. He'd spent to long living year to year, never knowing when he was going to wake up in a different time, to worry about what the future held now.

~..~

Tom, Jasper, and the Professor all watched as the unplottable compass burned and warped in to a twisted metal ball. The Professor, to say the least, was most impressed, and had enthusiastically agreed once more when they'd shown that the device worked. Neither of the two students wanted to come up on the ministry's radar. Jasper and Tom hadn't made another device, instead dividing the notes between them to hide and make a second once they returned next year. The very fact that it was a success though, made them hopeful for the completion of their secondary project.

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**May**

It wasn't a surprise that, after nearly a month of petrifactions, a student died. Jasper had been expecting it, and Tom had been hoping for it. Of course, Jasper doubted that Tom had been expecting the law enforcement's response and Dippet's compliance to said response. The word was out that some kind of monster was going around killing students, and they were going to stop it. Personally Jasper thought that the statement made it sound like a massacre had occurred instead of the single, and not overly sad, death.

He glanced over his newspaper at Tom. The teenager was fighting a frown and glaring at the aurors who patrolled through the school. Jasper could tell he was plotting, he always had that _look_ when he was plotting. He could honestly say that, even as a centuries old vampire, it unnerved the hell out of him. There was a reason that Tom Riddle would become the most feared Dark Lord in centuries. Jasper set his paper down gently and drew Tom's attention.

"What has you so stressed?" He asked, knowing that he wouldn't receive the real answer.

"Nothing serious, just... getting my priorities straight."

"Sounds interesting. So what do you think of this monster?"

"Well there obviously is _some_ sort of creature wandering through the halls."

"I'd like to know what kills and paralyzes without any physical marks. It has to be pretty rare, you don't here about things like this to often."

"Students!" The chime of a knife against a glass quieted the great hall and drew the attention of all those attending. "Because of the recent, and most tragic, death of a fellow student the aurors have been called in to investigate. I've been informed by the head of the department that unless the culprit is caught before the end of the year, that school will not be able to resume come next September. Please continue about your remaining days as normal, and be sure not to get in the way of any of the auror patrols."

"Well that is disappointing." Jasper muttered.

Tom nodded in agreement but cast a glance over Jasper's shoulder and his eyes alighted once more with that plotting look. Apparently Tom had found a target to fix this present screw up. Jasper also tossed a casual look in the same direction and knew as soon as he saw him who Tom's target was: Hagrid. Unfortunately for Hagrid, he was an easy mark. Poor kid, he wasn't going to make it past his third year at Hogwarts. Jasper gave a small sigh. It wasn't like he could do anything to change it. What was meant to happen, would, no matter what actions he took. That was the way the past worked.

~..~

Tom was roaming the corridors once more, though this time, instead of looking for the Chamber of Secrets, he was out to find Hagrid's hiding spot for his little pet. Following the half giant surely would have been easier, but an opportune moment had yet to arise, and so he was left scouting about on his own. He was disappointed that he would have to seal away the basilisk once more until he graduated, but he knew that he'd likely be able to teach. With his high scores and the way that Dippet nearly fawned over him, he doubted he would have trouble.

There was something unsettling him though. Jasper. There was something about him that set off alarms in his head, and the other had done nothing to do so. He'd acted exactly like a boy his age was supposed to, though, occasionally, Tom would catch him with a look on his face, in his eyes, that no teenage boy should have or even be aware of. Even far more rare than those looks, were the ones that seemed as if all his planning and scheming had been laid bare before the raven haired youth, and Jasper knew exactly what was going to happen. Jasper wasn't a seer. His... friend?... obviously didn't have the right temperament or the signs of one.

Either way, whatever he was, he wasn't normal. There was something dark about him, and not in the way that dark arts would coat an aura. It was closer to... shadows, he supposed. Tom was slowly resigning himself that Jasper really knew more than he ought and that he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Not like it mattered much as it seemed Jasper was content to watch the happenings and occasionally become a little more _involved_ with some of the players. Namely himself.

And while thinking along that line, tonight was one of their dueling sessions.

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**June**

Jasper obviously hadn't needed to attend Tom's 'heroic' actions of saving the school to know what had happened, as he had played witness to that particular scene. Though he honestly felt it was a bit cheap of the perfect to ambush Hagrid in the closet while he was talking to his pet. Not to mention he obviously allowed the acromantula to escape since providing one of those would obviously show that the half giant wasn't the catalyst to the death, and his plans would be all for naught. There was no trial or form of inquiry, just several aurors leading Hagrid up to the headmaster's office to hand over his wand and have it snapped, finalizing his expulsion from the school.

Jasper was still clueless as to how Dumbledore talked Dippet into allowing the half giant to stay, not only within the boundary wards, but as a staff member. The grounds keeper to be exact. What he wouldn't give to know that conversation, then again, perhaps Tom was right (as he usually was) and Dippet was just an easily manipulated fool. Tom had received an award in 'special services to the school,' a nice shiny trophy that Tom had scoffed at more than once, though never done so where others could here him. Jasper just happened to be in one of his wandering moods when he'd found out.

The year was coming to a close, and for the most part, Jasper had enjoyed himself. He still wasn't sure where he stood on the Voldemort issue yet, but he had a vague idea on which direction he was heading. He would know for sure when the time came, he supposed. As he thought often enough, whatever will happen, will happen.


	4. Chapter 4

_Warning: Slash scene is present and will be set apart by a series of ' * '._

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_**Creation of Immortality**_

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_The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose._

_~ Antonio, in The Merchant of Venice (William Shakespeare)_

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**Sept**

It was time to return to school and Jasper, though he knew not why exactly, was eager to see Tom. They'd kept correspondence over the summer months, but for a time it seemed as if the dark wizard had become distant, especially near the end of July. He'd also managed to get a job at the menagerie to pay for his summer lodgings and end up with a serpent familiar for all his troubles. The snake, Sithis, had taken to escaping his tank and stalking him around the store. He'd actually learned some interesting facts about it as well. Such as it was a Black-speckled palm-pitviper, he was awake during the day, he was born in Costa Rica before being imported to the UK, and that his favorite food was frogs. The damn thing just wouldn't shut up about itself. He'd have thought it narcissistic if not for the fact that Sithis _was_ different than others of his species. As an albino, lacking all the beautiful hues of greens and black, he stood out an awful lot.

Jasper strode into the great hall, blending in the with the numerous others students. He hadn't seen Tom on the train, but he could feel him. He wasn't just dabbling in the Arts anymore, and that was a fact that resonated in his aura. Jasper could tell, even without seeing the fractures that ran his soul now for such an action, that Tom had killed someone. Likely more than one. The knowledge didn't bother him; he doubted it would have if he was actually his physical age, because more than anything else, he could feel how happy, how _pleased_ Tom was. That, strangely enough, made him happy as well.

He slid into a seat on the sixth years section of table and waited for the sorting and feast to commence. Sithis shifted around his shoulders, tightening up to curl around his throat and peer at the room from just under the edge of his robe. The serpent gave a low hiss, a quiet nonsensical sound, but Jasper noted it was a sound of interest. He doubted the snake had ever seen so many people in one place before. The serpent had just shifted again, when he had spotted Tom. Sithis gave a delighted hiss; he too, could sense the dark that was roiling around Tom and, as Jasper's familiar, enjoyed the feel as well.

Tom sat across from him, taking one of the few open seats. There was a flash of red in his eyes before it quickly faded away. He gave Jasper a curt nod of acknowledgement, but turned away to look over the approaching first years. Jasper gave a smile, just small enough to hide his white fangs. No more dabbling, indeed. The vampire was half ready to pull his... partner, perhaps?... across the table. He glanced up to the head table to find Dumbledore peering intensely at Tom. Jasper had to give the man some credit. Not many would have picked out Tom to be the instigator of last year's incident. Then again, Dumbledore disliked Slytherins, and who would be a better choice than their prince. Jasper did something he wouldn't have the previous year, he drew Dumbledore's attention, calling to the man's light, and gave him an easily read look. _He's mine, and if you come near him, I'll kill you. _The wizard looked away first. Jasper smiled again. The sorting went on quickly along with the announcement about the forbidden forest that was standard for every year.

"Tom." The other looked up at him. "I take it that your summer was productive." Jasper wasn't as cautiously as he had been previously and threw Tom a knowing look. To which the response was a smile.

"Indeed." He'd quit wondering how Jasper had found out the things he did and accepted that of the other.

"May I inquire as to what you did?"

"I visited some relatives of mine."

"Ah, an enjoyable time then?"

"Naturally. I would accept no less." Tom had killed his family, and that bothered Jasper even less than it would have if he'd slaughtered innocents. After all, he'd seen what families did to each other, and that wasn't solely based on his -now, admittedly- fuzzy recollections of the Dursley home either.

"I'm happy for you."

"Did you manage to finish the other project we were working on?" Jasper nodded.

"All that's left is the anchoring and it should be ready for use. There are only three objects targeted, however." Tom waved it off.

"Three is more than enough. I have located that _cookbook_ you recommended some time ago."

"Really? I didn't think you would be able to find it."

"I also now have a list of titles and five different names that particular recipe goes by. I'll likely be able to get my hands on at least one of the books before the end of the year, and if not then, by the beginning of next year."

"I'm amazed you found something so fast. Honestly I was calculating in years, not months."

"You'd be surprised how often I get what I want." Jasper gave him another of those all-to-knowing smiles.

"Perhaps."

~..~

It took a few days for things to settle into a normal routine, the students having to once again get used to going to classes and obeying the teachers. Within those few days though, Jasper hadn't expected his secret, which could be considered the biggest he was hiding in some ways, to be found out by a careless accident. He'd forgotten to hide his fangs, and when kissing your partner quite thoroughly and vigorously, fangs tend to cut lips and tongues. So when Tom had pulled away, a small trail of blood forming at the corner of his mouth, Jasper had known what had happened.

"Vampire?" He asked, wiping away the blood.

"Yes." The reply was barely a whisper. Jasper was preparing to remove the information from Tom's mind. It wouldn't do well for that fact to become known.

"How interesting. Immortal?"

"I haven't died yet, if that is what you are asking. Though I hold little doubt that I could be killed were some one determined enough."

Tom made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. The idea of immortality, _true_immortality, appealed greatly to him. He'd spent quite a bit of time looking through dark, bordering on black, arts books over the summer. He'd read of many things that gave a faux immortality. Agelessness, as was common amongst the vampiric race, but he wanted to be unable to die. To know that if some one were to hit him with an _avada kedavra_, he wouldn't fall. The mere possibility of living forever interested him, and the resident vampire had just given him a new idea on some books he wanted to read.

"Tom?" Jasper's voice drew him back to the present. "I think it fair to assume that this won't be getting around." The tone was casual; the look in those gold eyes was not.

"I'll request your assistance at a later date." A smile curled Jasper's lip. Ever the Slytherin, Tom, to resort to blackmail.

"As you will. It will be one favor, however."

"Fair enough." Tom nodded and started to walk away. He had a student he needed to speak with. After all, it was the Black's who were the most well known for their collection of dark things, and their library had to be extensive to say the least.

~..~

Horus Slughorn was hosting a party earlier than usual. Tom, of course, attended. He had some questions for his head of house, questions that he couldn't really question others about. In his readings, which took him no less than a week, he'd stumbled across a term that was of some interest. He needed those interests confirmed. If what he suspected was true... well, then Jasper wouldn't be the only immortal running through the halls of the school, would he? Tome moved across the room casually, tossing comments here and there as he worked his way over to the professor. They chatted amiably for a few moments, and with a quick glance at the clock, Tom knew he only had to stall just a bit longer.

"Sir, is it true Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Now Tom, I couldn't tell you if I knew, could I? by the way, thank you for the pineapple, you're quite right, it is my favorite... but how did you know?" Tom gave an indifferent shrug.

"Intuition." There was a chime of the clock, exactly what Tom had been waiting for.

"Oh gracious, is it that time already? Off you go, boys, or Professor Dippet will have us all in detention." He shooed them out the door and turned to a stack of papers. A sound drew his attention. Tom was still there, waiting by the hourglass. "Look sharp, Tom. You don't want to be caught out of bed after hours..." His student looked back at him with a curious tilt to his head. Horus had seen the look often when Tom was contemplating something. "Some thing on your mind, Tom?

"Yes, sir. You see, I couldn't think of anyone else to go to. The other Professors, well, they're not like you. They might…misunderstand." He started cautiously; he couldn't just jump in after all.

"Go on." Tom turns slightly and starts walking towards the fireplace. He had to be watchful of what he said, or his plans could go down the drain.

"I was in the library the other night, in the Restricted section, and I read something rather odd, about a bit of rare magic, and I thought perhaps, you could illuminate me. It's called, as I understand it…a Horcrux." A frown instantly marred the professor's face and his eyes widened. He'd made the right choice. Slughorn did know about them.

"I beg your pardon?" Horus was hoping that he'd heard wrong.

"Horcrux. I came across the term while reading…and I didn't fully understand it."

"I'm not sure what you were reading, Tom, but this is Dark stuff, very Dark indeed." Dear Merlin, what had the boy gotten into? That word wasn't even mentioned in ninety-eight percent of the Dark Arts books ever written.

"Which is…why I came to you." Slughorn paused a moment, clearly hesitant and disturbed of where this conversation had ventured. Even still, he answered quietly.

"A horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

"But I don't understand how that works, sir." Tom moved slowly back towards the professor, stopping in front of him. Just a little more...

"One splits one's soul and hides part of it in an object. By doing so, you are protected should you be attacked and your body destroyed."

"Protected?"

"The part of your soul that was hidden lives on. In other words, you cannot die." Tom turned back to face the fireplace, turning the ring on his finger idly. He already had a thought for one of the objects, at least.

"And how does one split his soul, sir?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Tom." Ah, perhaps his dear head of house wasn't as clueless as he thought.

"…Murder."

"Yes, killing rips the soul apart. It is a violation against nature."

"Can you only split the soul once? For instance, seven…"

"Seven! Merlin's beard, Tom! Isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? To rip the soul into seven pieces…" Slughorn forces himself to calm down and tossed Tom a look that clearly conveyed his worry. "This is all hypothetical, isn't it, Tom? All academic…" The student turned back to face him once more, ever so slowly.

"…Of course, sir. It'll be our little secret." Then he'd gone, back to his dorm room. Horus slumped back in a chair; he couldn't escape the feeling that he'd just been the catalyst of something horrible, to the creation of a monster. He would speak of this to no one, however. He would _not_ be taking the blame.

~..~

Tom watched Jasper as the other circled the room. He couldn't say he wasn't curious, after all he had read about vampires how couldn't he be. They say a vampire's bite can be the most pleasurable thing that is known to a mortal man, or it could be the worst torment. He was wondering what it felt like. Then he started wondering if he had some sort of pain fetish. He couldn't stop the snort that curled out of him at those thoughts, and it drew Jasper's attention. He looked into those eyes that were becoming less and less green everyday. The vampire was putting on glamours every morning now. Tom twisted on the bed, a strange serpentine move that had Jasper eyeing him like a lazy predator.

"Jasper?"

"Hmm?" Those intense eyes didn't look up to meet his own.

"Do you kill when you feed?"

"Not always." This time his eyes did rise.

"What's it like?"

"For me, or them?"

"Both, I suppose." As soon as the words left his lips, there was a body over his. Jasper had darted across the room and perched over Tom, caging the body beneath his and careful not to touch.

"I was told, by the one that turned me, that it could be made to be the worst of suffering, a pain that knows no equal, or that it could be made to be the height of pleasure. For a vampire, it's like sin." There wasn't any way to describe the feeling of feeding off another, draining away their life sip by sip.

"How old were you when you were turned?"

"Fifteen." Tom paused, even in his breathing, as he thought.

"How long have you been fifteen?"

"A while."

"You'll never age?"

"Supposedly I will, but I haven't. It's in my blood." He leaned down just a little closer. "Why are you so curious about my eating habits, _Tom_?" Jasper purred the name, enjoying the slight tremor that ran up the other's body. He brought his hand up, tracing the pale column of throat, pausing ever so slightly when he felt a pulse beat against his fingertips. "Do _you_ want to know what it's like? I can show you, dear Tom." Rarely had anything happened between them without the dark pulling them together, and Jasper was willing to move forward. "All you have to do," He leaned down and brushed his lips against that throat. "Is say yes."

Jasper could feel Tom's heart racing and smell the desire that coiled up from his skin. He was ever so careful to keep his dark back, though. He wouldn't influence Tom in this, no matter how much he wanted to sink his fangs into that pretty little throat. He didn't stop himself, however, from tasting that pale skin. He lapped at the pulse point before, ever so gently and careful of his teeth, sucking on the soft flesh. Tom's hands wound into his shirt and tried to pull him down even as he arched up into him. Jasper didn't budge, careful to hold himself apart.

"I need your answer, Tom." He spoke softly, warm breath fanning over the other's ear just as he lightly nipped at it.

"Yes."

He tugged at Jasper's clothes again. Jasper gave a beatific smile. He dropped his body down and let just the barest touch of his dark wind out against Tom's own. There was a short halting of breath. Jasper paid it little mind as he went for his target. He opened his mouth, the tips of fangs just grazing the skin, and bit down as he rolled his body against Tom's. Jasper broke the skin, his mouth sucking away the blood, and he was soon wrapped in a wave of sensation. He felt the frantic pull of the one beneath him, begging with touch for more. Jasper writhed and twisted, using his whole body in a way that kept his partner on the edge as he drank him down. Then finally, Jasper pulled away, licking his lips clean and once more holding his body up from Tom's. the wizard's eyes were glassy as he stared, almost sightlessly, at the ceiling and his mouth moved to repeat a mantra. Eventually the blankness faded and he was once more cognizant of his surroundings. Jasper gave him a feral smile, flashing fangs that had Tom shuddering once more.

"Was it what you thought it would be, dear Tom?"

"That was..." He trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Oh, yes." Jasper nodded in agreement. Then, just to see the reaction he would get, he added: "And now imagine doing that while having sex." He nearly chortled at the faint stain of pink that touched the other's cheeks.

.

.

**Oct**

Sithis was an unhappy snake. He was, to say the least, bored. His master never let him explore the castle, and always warded the rooms against his leaving them when he didn't wish to attend those gatherings between the other humans. This boredom was the reason why he was currently entertaining himself by maneuvering across the rod that held the curtains that surrounded the beds. He wasn't expecting to have his... ah, entertainment, interrupted by his master's mate. The dark one flicked aside the curtains impatiently, dislodging Sithis' hold for a moment and making the snake hiss irritably.

_"Stupid human! If master would allow it, I would bite you."_Sithis wasn't surprised to see the look thrown his way, but he was surprised that he received a reply.

_"Why are you up there any way?"_

_"You speak? No wonder master has chosen you for a mate."_

_"Mate?"_ He seemed to sputter for a second.

_"Are you not? You do the serpent's dance often."_ Tom felt a faint blush touch his cheeks. Apparently Jasper had a voyeur pet snake.

_"We are not mates."_ Snakes twined together when they mated as they had a lack of limbs, so he couldn't fault the snake for drawing the wrong conclusions. The serpent seemed as if it would reply when the door opened and Jasper entered.

_"Master! Your mate speaks!"_Sithis dropped from the rod to the bed and quickly slithered his way over and up Jasper's leg to find his place on his master's shoulder. Jasper cast Tom a quick glance before turning back to the snake.

_"Sithis, I have explained to you that we are not mates."_

_"But master's wishes to find a mate... A suitable one is before you and I shan't object."_

_"Your approval is what I strive for."_

_"As it should be."_ The snake nodded sagely, as if what had been said hadn't conveyed the sarcasm.

Tom just watched them banter back and forth with a small amount of surprise. He couldn't say that he had been expecting Jasper to be a parselmouth. Then again, perhaps he should just quit expecting things of the vampire as he never conceded to meet the damn things.

"Are you of Slytherin's blood then?"

"No. I am, however, of his magical lineage. I was presented with the gifts of his line."

"How did that happen?"

"It's a story to tedious to tell."

"So all this time you were a parselmouth?"

"Yes."

"Did you know I was a parselmouth?"

"Yes."

"For how long?" He was truly curious about this point. He'd been careful with his ability to speak to snakes since arriving at the school. Some of the Slytherins knew, but they were all sworn to silence on pain of torture and death.

"Since you loosed the basilisk." Honesty really was the best approach. Jasper watched Tom's eyebrow twitch slightly.

"You really do know more than you should."

"As a vampire, I have to."

"I think you just like secretly lording it over everyone." Tom muttered under his breath.

~..~

Jasper sat quietly in the library, feet kicked up on the table and notes in his hands. He was easily ignoring the librarian's rabid glare that darted from the back of his skull to his feet. Really, the woman was such a joy to be around. He'd discovered a _slight_ problem with the second project he and Tom had started. While writing out the anchoring ritual once more he'd come across, much to his chagrin, that he had previously forgotten one very important detail. The target device would need to have some form of magical nature before hand. And not only that, but its original nature couldn't interfere with the new spells or else both could be nullified and a possible backfire occur.

"Oh dear." He muttered to himself. This was going to be just a bit more difficult than he originally intended. Jasper shifted and plucked a book from the table. Spell interference was such a bitch.

~..~

He needed a new name. Tom Riddle just sounded so common, so poor, so _muggle._ He needed something that would strike fear in to the hearts of those who heard it, something that would be known throughout the world, but never said. No, never spoken aloud, not even by his own followers. He stared down at his name, written by quill and ink and, as if by magic, the letters seemed to rearrange themselves across the page.

Voldemort.

_Lord Voldemort._

"I am Lord Voldemort."

.

.

**Nov**

_"Master! These pitiful humans claim you evil."_Sithis hissed, sliding into the room.

_"And just where have you been?"_

_"But master, these humans have no respect. You're not evil, at least I don't think you are." _The snake gave him an evaluating look, clearly asking for his opinion on the subject. Of course, Jasper was going to have to explain that being 'evil' was a matter of perspective.

_"Let me tell you something I was once told." _Jasper said as he walked over and picked the white serpent up from the floor. _"There is no good or evil, only power and those to weak to seek it." _See - perspective.

_"This is wise master. So those humans are weak?"_

_"I believe so."_

_"Where did master learn these words?"_

_"From a man who tried to kill me."_

_"Master's enemies are wise as well." _Jasper smiled and stroked the white scales.

_"Some are."_Sithis curled up his arm to lounge about his shoulders. The serpent cocked it's head, intelligence shining in those brightly colored red eyes.

_"Did master's enemies impart any more wise words?"_

_"I was an impertinent brat back then. I don't remember."_

_"I believe that master is making up excuses."_

_"I very well may be."_ Jasper gave a delighted sound, some thing close to a laugh. _"I ask you to never forget those words, Sithis. I feel as though they will be important, sometime."_

_"Never."_Sithis agreed, coiling tighter around the span of Jasper's shoulders.

~..~

Jasper stared at the four Slytherin students in front of him as he slid off his broom and on to the ground. He hadn't known where they'd come from, as he was sure to clear the area before launching into the sky, but damn they'd moved quickly. His face was carefully blank looking for all the world, or at least to the students in front of him, like he was contemplating their offer. He wasn't of course; he had no urge to be swept up into quidditch once more.

"Please." The female used a pouting face, likely once that worked on her parents and many of the boys.

"No."

"C'mon, you can't possibly allow Ravenclaw to win." Jasper's eyes landed on the one that spoke. A seventh year, broad through the shoulders and with strong arms, a beater on the team.

"Your inability to win against them has nothing to do with me." He turned to leave when a hand caught his wrist. The boy must have had a death wish. Jasper turned and stared at the offending appendage a moment before looking up at his face. "You will release me, or I shall relinquish you of your hand." The Slytherin didn't appear the slightest bit cowed, deciding that the younger year didn't have enough power to back up the threat. When Jasper realized that his request wasn't met with compliance he pulled his wand. "As you wish, then."

He flicked his wrist, not taking the time to mutter an incantation or do useless wand movements. It was barely a second thought, but he'd decided to leave the boy with hand intact. After all, he didn't know how far magic had come when reattaching things. A long gash, spanning the entire length of his forearm, split open, blood casting about in a fluid arc to spatter the three other students. The boy released Jasper with a pained cry, clutching his wounded arm tightly.

"Take heed next time, boy, for I shall not exercise restraint." He turned and walked away, listening to their frantic cries as they tried to held the beater to the infirmary. He absently noted that Slytherin's head of house made it a point to move out of his way as he moved down the hall.

~..~

"I heard what happened." Jasper set the book on his bed and looked up at his roommate.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. They said that curse was perfectly cast, and it was a curse, wasn't it?" Jasper gave him a sly smile.

"I really don't know." He innocently claimed. "I mean, I didn't say an incantation. Maybe it was accidental magic?" He made his eyes wide with just a hint of tears. Tom was amazed that someone like Jasper could actually pull off such a face.

"I don't think they are going to believe that." He sat at the foot of his own bed. Jasper shrugged.

"They have no evidence to the contrary, and those four won't rat me out. We're all Slytherins after all, and we keep our disputes between us."

"Yes, we are snakes, and that's why you should watch your back. The one you cut open had even fewer morals than the rest of us."

"Even you?"

"I don't include myself with them, to do so would be to lower myself to their level."

"I just noticed that you're a bit of a narcissist."

"Just _now_?"

"Well, I'll admit that there were clues, but I hadn't actually put a word to it." When there was no sibilant smart ass remark, Tom looked around for the white serpent.

"Where's Sithis?"

"I decided that I would allow him to explore the castle after I got his word that he would stay out of site and wouldn't bite anyone."

"And you believed him?"

"Serpents don't lie. They may twist the truth, but they don't lie. They can't."

"I hadn't been aware of that." He murmured, looking up at the ceiling in thought. In all his times speaking to snakes, he had never questioned why they had told him the truths they had. He'd just assumed that it was because he was a speaker that they deigned to do so. "Curious."

"I suppose." Jasper answered, startling Tom out of his musings.

.

.

**Dec**

Tom had decided what was to be his first horcrux. A diary. It was a plan that he'd already come up with but had been able to find a way to execute it. He wanted to be able to have the basilisk released from the Chamber without his physical presence. The fact that he was making this horcrux with not only that task but also able to regain him a body in the case that he lost it, made for tedious work. None of the books had described how much work it was to create one of these things.

Tom's quill flew across the page, arcing in curvaceous elegant writing. Worded memories then sunk into the page, imbuing the actual diary with memories as Tom used magic to imprint his personality onto to it. It would take some time, but he was confident that once a piece of his soul was being housed within the pages, that his plans for the book would come to fruition. It would take time to finish adding in the necessary memories, at least the rest of this month, and then he would have to decide whose death would have the honor of helping him split his soul, without him getting caught.

~..~

Information was what he needed, and the desired information couldn't be found within the walls of the school. Considering the type of magic he wasn't surprised, but even so, he was disappointed. He needed to draw upon what few resources he had. The only ones that could even possibly be considered were the dark aligned pureblood families that were influential enough not to have there homes raided for precious tomes and artifacts. And even if he did call a few favors in among his peers, the books were rare enough that they may be unable to obtain them for him

He stopped his furious pacing when pale hands and arms wound around his waist. Jasper had found him, like he'd always been able to, though he was curious as to how the vampire knew to check the room of requirement. Cool hands drifted beneath his shirt, tracing over taught stomach muscles before moving further up. Sharp fangs scraped along his throat and Tom's breath hitched as the memory of the last feeding came to the fore of his mind.

"What is it that vexes you so, dear Tom?" It would be pointless not to tell the other, and Jasper could have some useful information as well.

"I'm trying to procure information that had fallen into some tight hands." The vampire made a thoughtful noise as he nuzzled the throat before him. He had the utmost confidence in Tom, but perhaps a few words would give him a thought.

"Not all seduction is sexual Tom." He hissed. "Use their desires, their wants, their _dreams_ to obtain what you need. Don't lie. Lies shall get you caught. Bend the truth to suit your purpose. Take their laws and traditions, turn them to your gain." He rested his head on that thin shoulder. "Never forget that even the devil can cite scripture for his purpose."

Jasper was gone before he could respond. The vampire had given him a few ideas.

~..~

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black really was full of helpful people if one wanted to strive forward in the dark arts. Tom had forwarded a request through one of the Black students and received what he asked for two days later. A book on death magic, a not so distant branch of necromancy. It had only taken him near on an hour to find the information he'd been searching for. He actually didn't have to kill any one, at least not now. He would be able to finish creating his horcrux while still in school, as long as he performed the necessary actions on the spot that death occurred. He already knew of a death he'd caused. How convenient. Tom pulled the diary out from his trunk and started towards the halls. It was time for his perfect rounds anyways, and no one would notice if he was missing for perhaps and hour or two while they ran the halls. And if they did happen to notice, he knew that it would be hard to come up with a believable lie.

.

.

**Jan**

Jasper was reading the paper, something he rarely did. Usually he held little interest in world news as it almost never effected his position in life, but he figured that with Gridelwald running around, it would be prudent to know what was happening. This particular dark lord stayed mostly on the mainland, occasionally sending his troops out for random raids in various places. For the most part Grindelwald was working in tandem with Hitler as he moved out from Germany. It made him fairly in predictable in his actions and thus, less of a threat personally.

"What are you doing?" Jasper flipped down the top of the page to look at the nearly incredulous face of Tom.

"Reading the news."

"Why?"

"To know what is happening."

"You've never cared before."

"No time like the present."

"Oh really?" An eyebrow quirked and Jasper knew that Tom didn't believe a single word. It was such a shame since it was true. Let in never be said that Jasper was insincere in the things he did.

"Honestly."

"You're planning something; you're always planning something." Tom regarded him with suspicion.

"You're doing it again." Jasper sighed plaintively.

"What?" He asked, curiously.

"Anthropomorphizing."

"That only applies if you're not human." Jasper gave him a raised eyebrow. "That's arguable." He personally thought as vampires as still being human.

"Paranoia then." Jasper shrugged carelessly.

"How so?"

"You think that just because you're off plotting that everyone else has to be as well." Tom's lips pulled into a frown, but he didn't say anything to that. "Don't give me that look, you know it's true." Tom sighed and sat down.

"Anything interesting?"

"Mmm... not really. One of Gridelwald's labs was raided, they found notes on magic experimentation."

"In what way."

"In the stripping of a magical core way."

"They put that in the paper?"

"Not in as many words, but a clever person could piece it together."

"And how did _you_ put it together?" Jasper folded the paper and tapped his lips in thought. What was the easiest way to explain it...

"I know how dark lords work and what they want." There, simple.

"What does Gridelwald want?"

"To rule."

"That has nothing to do with the magical core experiments." He gave Jasper a deadpan look.

"Think about it Tom. You're a clever boy. Who stands in the way of Gridelwald's rule?"

"The magical ministries." Jasper shook his head.

"You're thinking to general. Who is the one person that Gridelwald has come up against in battle and has always fled; who has he striven to avoid?"

"Dumbledore." Tom folded his hands to hide his deepened frown.

"Dumbledore is the one person that Grindelwald believes can stop him."

"Why Dumbledore of all people? Surely there are other's just as strong."

"It's not just strength. Grindelwald and Dumbledore share a... personal history. If anyone knows Grindelwald's patterns and the way he thinks it would be Dumbledore. That gives the professor a distinct advantage over the dark lord that others don't have."

"So why bother with stripping him of his magic, why not just kill him."

"Because doing that wouldn't be as satisfying." He said, and then muttered, "Egomaniacal dark lords, and their long drawn out plots for revenge."

.

.

**Feb**

"I win."

"Excuse me?" Tom asked, confused at where that had come from.

"I win." Jasper gestured to the very large pile in front of him. Tom gave him a flat look.

"Yes, turn valentine's day into some sort of competition." Jasper gave a 'hmm' and cast a detection spell on a box of chocolates before popping one in his mouth.

"You're just jealous because I won." Ooh, that one was a delectable truffle.

"You _didn't win_." Tome sneered.

Jasper looked between the stacks. It was close, admittedly, but Jasper came out on top. He wiggled his finger at the heap.

"That says differently." He paused long enough to eat another chocolate. "It's okay to lose to me, dear Tom. Even you have to admit that I'm devilishly handsome." He was given another flat look. "What?"

"Have I ever told you how so very _modest_ you are."

"Mm... Repeatedly." He said absentmindedly as he ate another chocolate.

"Will you quit eating those damn chocolates." Tom hissed. Jasper blinked, looked down to the box, blinked once more, and turned back to look at Tom. He then raised the container and held it out.

"If you wanted one all you had to do was say so." Tom actually snarled at him and swung out at the box. Jasper moved it away before it was knocked out of his hands and pouted at the other. "Don't you like valentine's day, Tom?"

"No, I don't like valentine's day."

"But it can be such an _enjoyable_ holiday."

"So you say." His aggravation causing him to ignore the purposeful lilt in Jasper's voice. Jasper pouted again.

"How about I show you, hmm?"

"Show -?"

*****

His question was cut off as his lips were taken in a harsh kiss and he was pressed in to the bed. Pale hands were every where, roving, finding places to dip past clothes to smooth over soft skin. Buttons were unclasped, his shirt and robes suddenly disappearing. Hands danced down a firm chest, drawing low sounds with barely there touches. A hot mouth started to follow the same path, tongue touching where fingers had been only moments before. Jasper kneaded a thigh while his other hand worked on the leather belt before him. He kissed and licked down a stomach that fluttered with catches in breathing. He sucked gently on supple flesh, grazing just the bare edges of fangs on skin.

Jasper moved even lower, opening black pants and slid them down slowly. Strong hands tangled in his hair as he caught his thumbs in the edges of the silk underwear. He looked up the span of body before him to meet a burning gaze and, with a deliberate slowness, cocked his head and nuzzled the stiff length of hidden flesh. Tom's eyes slid closed and the tight grip loosened. Jasper pulled away the last constraint without quarrel. He gave a firm lick over the head, enjoying the way Tom's face furrowed and he fought to arch up. Jasper gave something between a smile and a frown. He wanted Tom to be wild, unrestrained, have noises pulled from him that could only mean he was losing himself to the sensual beat of his body.

He braced himself on either side of Tom's long legs and rose up enough to get proper leverage, and then, with no hint of what was to happen, pulled the whole of him into his mouth, sliding all the way to the base in one smooth motion. Tom gave a strangled cry, frantic in its pitch, and his hands once more wound into Jasper's hair, pulling harshly on the raven locks. He danced his tongue expertly around the flesh in his mouth as he bobbed his head in a rhythmic motion. He drew forth the noises he desired from the body beneath him as it writhed and struggled and Tom fought to control the motion. A tremor rolled up his victim as Jasper swallowed convulsively. This was one of the few reasons Jasper was glad to be a vampire: no need to breath. Tom's body curved perfectly, hips jerking as he spilled into the hot mouth that still held him. Jasper bathed him clean with his tongue before easily redressing Tom and pulling away slowly.

*****

Jasper sat back on the bed, looking down at the tired person before him. For all his charms, Jasper suspected that this was the first time for the other. He fought down a snicker. The Slytherin Prince was a virgin. The thought was laughable, though it appeared to be true. He would enjoy teaching Tom the finer arts. Perhaps next year though...

.

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**April**

Jasper stepped into the room, towel running roughly through his hair. He liked it long, it was pretty enough, but it was horribly high maintenance. He flung the towel over the footboard, knowing that the elves would retrieve it soon enough and put back into one of the linen closets. He reached for a brush and ran it through long strands as he paced the room. A book on his dorm mate's bed suddenly caught his attention. He leaned over to get a good look at the title, interested in what the other would be reading. Seeing Tom M. Riddle printed across the cover had him stepping to the other side of the room. His memories of that time were perhaps not vivid any longer, but that didn't mean he'd forgotten _that_ particular book and all the trouble it had caused. Not to mention that the memory within it had tried to kill him with a damn basilisk. He couldn't deny, however, that he'd been curious as to its creation. How does one store a memory within a book, or was there more to it than that? He would find out. He always did.

~..~

Tom stared down over the Gaunt ring he'd taken from his abhorrent family. It had taken months to fully regain his strength after the last ritual had been performed, but he was ready once more. He knew that once he became more practiced in the dark arts it wouldn't affect him as much, only ending up feeling mildly exhausted. He was looking forward to those times. Of course, he ran a hand through his dark hair, he would soon have to get a familiar to help siphon away the impurities of dark magic, lest he lose his sanity before his goal was completed. What was the point of ruling the world when you were to insane to enjoy it?

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**June**

_Horcrux._The word just tasted dark. A soul fragment. An anchor to the living world. Immortality. Jasper scanned the pages, quickly looking over the scant information. He understood now. That's what the diary was. It was what had kept Voldemort alive when the killing curse had backfired upon him. But still, _ritual murder, soul division, the tying of fragments to objects_, the vampire had wondered how some one could go through with such a thing. He'd come across very little in regards to soul magicks while coming to this point in time, but everything had always claimed the same: soul magic was not only dangerous, but unbelievably painful.

"Oh, Tom." He murmured, placing down the sheaf of papers.

He stepped back from the box he'd found the notes in and pulled the wards back up, re-laying the parsel magic that had surrounded it. Tom would know that Jasper knew what was going on, and Jasper... well, he wanted to forget. But he knew better. He knew what he'd chosen, even if he returned to where he was from, his decision would remain the same. He chose Tom, would always choose Tom, even with the knowledge he had of what Tom was to become.

His finger's caressed his forehead where a scar lay hidden beneath as many glamours as Jasper could cast. He knew what it was now. It wasn't hard when one had just read the information. He would have to move it. It wasn't safe within a human container. There was a reason why all the objects were supposed to be inanimate, though they could be placed in a familiar. Now he needed to find if he could transfer the soul piece that resided within him and keep it safe until a time when it was necessary to use. A feral smile lit his face. Gringotts would be perfect. He could will it to himself. No one would look into the vault of Harry James Potter for a part of Voldemort. It might take a little bit of bribing and finagling on his part with the goblins, but it would get done.


	5. Chapter 5

_Warning: Slash is present in this chapter and will be isolated by a series of ' * '. And thank you to all who reviewed. It continues to be an inspiration to write._

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_**Sorrow of Goodbye**_

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_Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion_

___~ Dylan Thomas_

_Before you embark on a journey of revenge  
should first dig two graves._

_~ Confucius_

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**Sept**

Tom looked entirely to smug and proud of himself. It was the first time that Jasper had ever felt the need to employ violence on him. It wasn't as if Riddle had successfully completed some plot that would bring his goal of ruling the world to fruition, so the vampire had a difficult time understanding the reasoning behind those haughty looks. So he had become head boy... Jasper wasn't entirely sure what there was to be so proud of from the future dark lord's stand point. Then again, Tom had likely originally planned to take over the wizarding world by climbing the political ladder to the top. Look how well that turned out, trust Dumbledore to black ball some one from the arena before they even got started. Jasper shook his head and turned back to the book he was reading. The text on Animagus transformations was of course restricted, and this particular book outlawed, but that didn't bother either of the compartment's occupants. Jasper frowned down at the book, trying to figure out _why_ exactly it was illegal. He turned the page.

_'Oh, well that explains it...'_

The book was a guide for an archaic spell to force one into animal form. While that might not be a problem in theory, it had also been discovered, a bit to late unfortunately, that it also reinforced that animals instincts to unnatural highs. That had resulted in nearly two dozen deaths. Jasper was curious on to why they just didn't lock themselves within an empty room and _then_ cast the spell. Then again, the wizarding nation had never been well known for its common sense. Give a human magic and all the _obvious logical_ conclusions go right out the window. This was why he was glad he grew up in the muggle world, but he didn't doubt that the affliction was contagious. After all, look at what happened to Tom. Pure genius, using all methods to get what he wanted at his disposal, and then, BAM!, typical wizard. Sad, really sad. Jasper gave a mournful sigh, but then turned back to the spell he was reading about.

~..~

The Slytherin hierarchy had finally come together in it's entirety. Jasper could see the makings of those whom, and whose children, would form up his most trusted, the inner circle. He could see the blind devotion of those that would rank lower. Slytherin was no longer just a grouping of students heading the words of the houses Heir, now it was a socially stable structure. He wasn't just the Prince of Slytherin now, he was their Lord and Master, the one who would carry out the great Salazar Slytherin's true ideals and bring their world back to the way it was supposed to be.

The staff seemed oblivious to this obvious shift in structure. The students, not so much. They didn't cater to him like his own house did, save for the few, but they quickly learned to not cross Tom Riddle. The boy many had picked on for his half-blood status was dangerous now, with a competent powerbase as well. Jasper though it was amusing to watch. The way the little Hufflepuffs scurried hurriedly out of Tom's way or the way the Ravenclaws would duck behind their books... all so humorous. Then, somehow, he'd gotten swept to the top of the structure, nearly next to Tom in power. He supposed it was because he was possibly the only one that could claim a 'friendship' with the unapproachable Slytherin.

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**Oct**

Jasper stood silently behind Tom, back pressed to the wall and just watching the other. Tom was tense, energy poring from his skin. His school robe was off, draped across his trunk and his shit was unbuttoned to expose a tantalizing sliver of well-formed chest muscle. He was... tempting. Jasper pushed himself away from the stone wall, striding over slowly. He stopped in front of him, reaching out to play with the edge of the shirt and tie that hung loosely over his shoulders.

"I want to know you, Tom." Jasper spoke softly, pulling away the tie and letting it fall to the floor as he traced that pale line of uncovered skin.

"You do know me." He fought to keep from leaning into the gentle caress. This was a different Jasper before him. Seemingly vulnerable, seemingly innocent, as if decades of experience didn't lie behind those eyes.

"Let me _know_ you, dear Tom." He was asking, pleading.

"In what way?" The question was breathless as wandering hands mapped his collarbone, throat, and jaw before dancing over his lips.

"Many ways... all ways." He pressed close, forming their bodies together. He was nearly begging; he never begged. "Please, let me."

He dropped the glamour hiding his eyes, letting the gold shine brightly. It was with tentative touch that he brushed their lips together, waiting for the moment that Tom would turn away and flee. Tom's acquiescence was clear in the vigorous return of the kiss. This wasn't like him, or either of them really. There had never been slow and sweet between them. It had always been hot, fast, like a fire overtaking a forest. There was always such a attraction between their magics that slow never lasted long in the face of the dark energy.

Jasper gently cupped the side of Tom's face, running a thumb gently over the perfect cheekbone. He guided them both to the bed, pushing Tom back on to the soft throw before he started working along a well formed jaw, down a thin neck. His hands unclasped buttons as they found them. He knew what Tom's life had been like before Hogwarts, knew what some of it would be like after it, and he was going to show the future Dark Lord that he was loved, deserved to be loved, even if the other could never return the feeling.

*****

Jasper moved away slowly, drawing Tom in to a sitting position as he peeled away the crisp white shirt. Those hands, used so much more often to inflict pain, easily returned the favor. Jasper smoothed himself over the body beneath him, worshiping the soft skin with hands and mouth. Small sounds, noises that Jasper wouldn't have heard had he not been a vampire, barely passed Tom's lips. With easy grace and fluid moves, Jasper had Tom lying on the bed, bared, before him. He started moving again, touching, teasing, at the flesh that seemed to become more sensitive with each barely there stroke. Jasper could smell the desire that bathed Tom like a sweet cologne, just barely tempered with the subtle affection that had developed between them over the passed years.

He subtly reached for his wand and cast a few charms as he devoured the flesh of Tom's stomach. He tasted good, almost identical to his scent. He let his hands explore slowly, letting his would be lover become used to the idea as he gently prepared him, and when he was ready, Jasper rose up, taking the other's lips once more in a sweet sensuous kiss that conveyed all the feeling that Jasper could muster, and entered him. Tom gave a hiss of discomfort, but it was quickly lost to far more pleasurable sensations as Jasper eased forward, bringing them closer together than ever before and joining them in far more than just body.

He kept his thrusts smooth and even, enjoying the sounds he could draw forth. Jasper kept his hands busy, pulling and stroking fondly as his mouth worked on that odd little erotic spot that appeared after Jasper had first fed from him. Jasper knew he'd found the perfect combination of sensation when Tom cried out, wrapping himself around the vampire to pull him close. He serenely ignored Tom's hissed urgings, and kept with his pace. He gave soft replies, the serpent's words for love, comfort, and affection. Their magic came forward, the dark strangely subdued from its usual fiery zeal. The energy gave a contented hum as it twined together, mixing, molding, meshing. It pulled their coupling to completion far sooner than Jasper would have liked. They called out together, sibilant words dripping from their tongues as they were suddenly swept away in a darkness that was to blank to be sleep.

*****

Jasper was the first to wake, finding himself in a tangle of warm limbs. He drew away unhurriedly, soaking in this feeling for all that it was worth. He looked down at Tom, brushing tousled hair from his face. He looked so innocent in sleep, almost angelic. If only moment like these, so peaceful, could last forever, but he would never ask Tom to change. He loved him just the way he was.

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**Nov**

"Is Jasper Cole your real name?" Jasper looked up from his place sprawled across Tom's bed.

"That is a strangely random question Tom. Why do you want to know?"

"To see if you were anyone important in history of course."

"Of course." Jasper muttered sarcastically. "But no, I wasn't. My roles in history may have been varied in occupation, but not so much in status. I think the furthest along I had gotten was to be a knight when I'd accidentally saved a princess while looking for food."

"How did that happen?" He looked curious.

"Well, she _was_ the only girl wandering out in the forest in the middle of the night, and I wasn't about to share with some mangy wolf. She just happen to see me kill the wolf and had me knighted." Jasper shrugged. "I have to admit though, that I was happier sleeping in the castle than the old hut. I may be dead but sleeping on the ground can still hurt." He then gave a momentary pause, touching his chin in thought. "Then again, there was that one time I paraded around as Vladimir while crossing through Romania. Needless to say I was a very popular character... on both ends of the spectrum. It was sort of ironic considering that I actually was a vampire."

"Why would you do that?"

"I was curious to see what would happen. History wasn't always exciting you know. I had to entertain myself a lot."

"Most men would just pick up a whore." Tom commented blandly. "Not set swarms of people upon themselves." Tom shook his head and turned around. Jasper swore he heard an incredulously murmured 'to see what would happen.'

"Trust me. Being 'immortal." He said, putting air quotes around the word. "Isn't all it's cracked up to be. People you know get old and die, friends, loved ones, and things change so quickly that it isn't always easy to adapt. Civilizations crumble with new ones springing up in their place. It's all repetitive after a while."

Silence had fallen between them when Tom had suddenly jumped up and started digging through his trunk. Jasper watched with idle curiosity. What had gotten the other so riled all of a sudden? He rolled out of the way of several books that took up position where his head had been previously. Tom gave a successful grunt and rose with an old tome in hand.

"Going to read me a bedtime story?" Tom scoffed at him, but handed him the book.

"Your anchoring spell is in there. I'd like for you to be finished within the month but even I have to bow to cosmic movements." It was a spring ritual.

Jasper raised a brow. So Tom had found it had he? He flipped to the page, curiosity getting the better of him at the moment. He'd never actually known the spell's name, as even before it was banned, it was hard to learn of. _Ligare Noctu_. Bind by night. That was... bizarrely appropriate in a round about way.

"And how did dear Tom acquire this?" Tom gave him a sly smile.

"Surely you don't expect me to share all my secrets?"

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**Dec**

Jasper sat in the very center of a circle with an amulet in the center of a second that intersected his own. Two black candles sat where the two circles connected, and the struggling body of a man in the space created between the two. A gray candle was before him and a white one to the identical position on the opposite side in front of the amulet. Four other candles, alternating in blue and green dotted the outside of his circle. This was the setup for the ritual that would transfer the soul piece that resided within him. The gray candle, the blue, the green, and the whiter were all lit.

Jasper took to his feet, ritual dagger in hand as he walked the circle once in its entirety, chanting lowly in Latin. He started the second round, slicing open his palm and letting the blood drip on the blue and green candles. The flame's color shifted, changing from that flickering yellow-orange to a shimmering blue. The black candles lit on their own, coming to life with an eerie purple flame. He let out a shuddering breath and walked towards the man. Soul rituals required death, and tonight, this man would be playing part in something far larger than himself.

Both men were naked, though a swath of white fabric on Jasper and black on the man saved their decency. Jasper kneeled down, careful not to disturbed the salt that the circles were composed of. He quickly cut a rune in the man's flesh, just below the hollow of the throat. A second rune, gebo, follow just below the first. Jasper's chant changed. The flames of the blue and green candles died out, declaring that the sacrifice was acceptable for the purpose he wished. Raidho was cut just beneath the man's sternum. Jasper painted an identical one in the man's blood over his scar. The white and gray candle's flames jumped violently, becoming much larger than they should be able to.

Jasper's chant changed once more, beginning the true transfer of the soul piece. He felt the pull, an ache that felt like it was splitting open his skull, as it left him. A ragged scream tore from his throat and dark spots swam through his vision. He couldn't pass out, not until he finished this. The gray candle extinguished and Jasper raised the dagger high over head, before driving it down into the man's chest. The black candles died as the man's life fled him, and the white candle's flame turned a vibrant red. He took his own blood and painted the rune dagaz on his chest in an opposing fashion, closing out his circle and forcing the soul piece into the other, where the only available object was the amulet. When the white candle finally died, he knew the ritual was complete. He summoned his remaining strength to walk the circle once more, counter clockwise this time, closing it out, and picked up the amulet.

He was going to have to clean up this clearing, no matter how unlikely it was to be found, but first, a little rest, and a pain potion, were in order.

~..~

It was the first time in a great many years that Jasper had enjoyed the month of December. Always before the winter solstice had seemed a dreary affair, even the last two years when spending time with the Heir of Slytherin. They were doing nothing special, just hiding away in the head boy's room _(no matter how much Tom would deny such) _from Tom's little minions. Tom was working quietly at his desk, determinedly finishing off some research he was doing. He'd wished Tom a Happy Birthday earlier, presenting a book that he'd come across over the summer months. It was a dark arts book, needless to say.

The rest of the Slytherin's were down in the commons. They were surprisingly rowdy this year, one of the older students happening to smuggle in some fine liquor for the others to indulge in. Slughorn had been no where in sight to contain them, not as if he would have had he been there, and so there was a bit of damage being done to the room by those that were just a bit drunk. It was when one of the lesser purebloods had gotten on the coffee table to perform a strip tease that Jasper had headed for Tom's room. No one would go there.

Jasper gave a disappointed sigh as Tom continued to scribble furiously with his quill. All the other did was work, if there was a loyal bone in his body Jasper could have teased him about being a Hufflepuff. All from a safe distance of course, with a strong shield charm as well. The clock in the room chimed loudly, indicating the end of another year. Jasper took to his feet and tipped Tom's chair to rest only on its back legs.

"Happy New Year, dear Tom." He smiled and swept Tom up into a passionate embrace. The work was forgotten as they moved towards the bed.

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**Jan**

Tom was an actor. It was actually one of his best skills, with his charming smile and handsome looks it wasn't hard. That was how he was able to play the part of sympathetic friend to the whining done by the gray lady. Apparently she was the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw and had disappeared with the founder's diadem, an object he was hoping to obtain. What better to contain the soul fragment of a future immortal than something as steeped in history as one of the founder's prized objects. He cooed and 'aww-ed' in the proper places as he listened to the tragic tale. He'd waited until her story was finished to asked the question that had been stuck in his mouth since he'd heard.

"So they just left the diadem in the tree hollow?" The Lady sniffled a bit and nodded.

"Oh yes, I'd hidden it well enough, with leaves covering it. No one would have found it unless they knew where to look."

"Why did you flee to Albania?" He asked, drawing away from the diadem. He now had a place to start. Ravenclaw's diadem would been in his possession soon enough. He only half listened as Helena fell off into a diatribe of all the reasons that Albania had been the perfect place.

~..~

Jasper stood on a railing, perfectly balanced, and looking down at the distant ground. It wasn't the first time he'd contemplated death, though it was the first time to reflect over suicide. He wasn't depressed or anything, wasn't necessarily looking to die, so much as he wonder that if he threw himself over would it actually kill him. He didn't think it would, but there was a surprising amount of hesitation in the back of his mind that kept him from doing it. A hesitation that hadn't been present for a great many years. It made him feel human again. What a strange sensation, he mused.

Why this sudden change, even a year ago he likely would have jumped. If only to find some sort of limitation to his still growing abilities. Even as a vampire he was abnormal. Walking in daylight, near immunity to fire, rare need for blood, and the fact that he didn't 'sleep' as a vampire did. He'd become accustomed to that though, physical changes were easier to handle than the emotional ones._ That_ was were his problem lay. He'd been... what was an appropriate word? Numb? Empty? Void? ...for so long that to suddenly _feel_ again set him off balance. Happiness, sadness, frustration, and a hodgepodge of others that he didn't know the names for. He stared off into the distance, unable to define where the earth touch the sky as it was to dark. The only thing that had changed was Tom. Tom Riddle. Voldemort. Dear Tom. The Tom he loved. And how strange that was! To love the enemy. Though he really wasn't an enemy anymore was he? At least, not now, but how long would that last? No matter how much he would love to deny it, he would always be Harry Potter. So now it wasn't a matter of him loving Tom; it was a matter of Voldemort being able to love Harry. But Voldemort was incapable of love... so where did that leave him?

Jasper looked to the constellations and the stars within them as if they would give answer to his plight. They didn't, just looked down, cold and untouchable as ever. He sighed and stepped down from the railing. It was getting late, he better get to bed.

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**Feb**

He stepped into Gringotts with a confident gate that made him look far older than his appearance. This was the first opportunity that he'd been able to come across for slipping away to the goblin bank without any one questioning where he would have been even if he was missing the whole day. Instead of walking up to the tellers, he turned down one of the side halls. Jasper didn't need an escort through this building like humans normally did. He knew where he wanted to go and exactly how to find his way there. He still wasn't entirely sure, however, that this particular plot would work. He had no idea on how the goblins ran things when it came to the will of assets, or asset in this case. He came to a heavy stone door and waited before it until a gruff voice called him in.

"Ah, Mister Potter." Jasper flinched.

"Please call me Mister Cole, Jasper if you will." He said as he took a seat.

"And what can this office do for you today. You realize that you are unable to claim any inheritance outside of your own timeline, correct?"

"Yes, I am aware of that. I have an object that I would like to... will to myself."

"Planning to die, are we?" The goblin asked offhandedly as he shuffled through papers.

"Not die, but I have a nasty habit of going to sleep and waking up some when else."

"Ah. Vampire then."

"Did everyone but me know that?" The goblin gave him a slightly quizzical look.

"There is a very small selection of beings able to travel time in a non-linear aspect. Most of these have a conscious that spans their whole lives instead of regarding it as past, present, future. Vampires, or vampires of your lines don't have this latter facet. Those of your lines are put into the past to mature so that you are able to take your proper position when returning to your own place. Those that are aware of this include those non-linear time travelers, intelligent magical objects, and those races with ancient magics that can perceive, but are unable to change, past or future."

"I was never aware of that." He said thoughtfully. "But let's get down to business shall we? I'd like this object," He slid an amulet across the table. "To be willed to be in light of my death or disappearance, but to only be put in my vault at the beginning of my..." Jasper suddenly trailed off, trying to remember when exactly he had vanished.

"You were entering your fifth year when you had become a vampire."

"Fifth year then. I would also like one of your finest lock boxes with some wards placed around it, blood identification that opens only to me, and set to a specific password." The goblin quickly shot another look at the amulet. It wasn't anything fancy, not an heirloom to some ancient family or a finely crafted piece of metal. It was just gold, twisted into a Celtic knot strung onto a piece of leather.

"Soul magic clings to this."

"It does."

"It is not your own."

"No, it isn't. This won't be a problem, will it?" He asked, knowing that soul magic was entirely banned within the confines of this country.

"Goblins do not yield to your human laws. We believe in the practice of all magic, and in the price one has to pay for using it."

"Now, about this box..."

"It is being brought up from the forge as we speak. I hope you have enough funds, now, to pay for such. We don't work in money that doesn't exist yet."

"You may take the cost from my vault here in this time. The entire contents should more than cover the cost and buy your secrecy." A note appeared on the desk in front of the goblin. He looked over the numbers that spanned the page. Jasper had been a busy vampire over the summer, earning money enough for not only his continuation of school, but to pay for things that had suddenly come up. He hadn't been expecting to use it all in one go though.

"This amount should be quite sufficient." The goblin gave a toothy smile that seemed a lot more malicious than it actually was.

"Thank you." Jasper stood from his seat.

"Cole." Jasper looked back. "It would do you well to appear once more in my office in the future."

Jasper nodded cordially and disappeared through the door. Apparently he had some kind of inheritance waiting for him once he returned. Perhaps it was from his mother? He could only guess.

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**Mar**

Jasper knew it was to late by the time he felt it. The twisting pain that emanated from his core could only mean one thing. Sithis was in danger; he was hurt. There wasn't anything Jasper could do about it. He stood up, interrupting the teacher's lecture, and bolted out the door. Even if he wouldn't make it in time, he had to try. He slid around a corridor and completely launched himself over two flights of stairs to the ground floor. He dodged a group of students, weaving in between their bodies as he passed on his way towards the dungeons.

The coppery tang of blood hung in the air with the smell of snake and human. The pain suddenly wrenched, the agony of which causing him to crash to the floor in a heap. He struggled up once more, fine leather shoes slipping across the stone floor before being able to get traction and move him forward. He nearly careened into a wall when his sight slanted, setting his world on a tilt. Jasper gave a vicious snarl, a sound that was impossible from a human throat, and moved even quicker. He burst into a small room, one of many that littered the dungeons that wasn't quite big enough to fit a class.

The sight he came across caused his steps to hesitate. It felt like a lead weight had been place in his chest. Sithis was stretched across a board, his head secured by a leather tie and his tail by a thin rod of metal that didn't meet the standards for being a nail. The whole length of him, stretching more than eight feet (_over twice the length he was when Jasper first obtained him_,) was littered with red. It took a moment to realize they were lacerations, bleeding mouths that split apart where those luminescent white scales had fit so perfectly together. Jasper banished the pin holding his familiar's tail and gently undid the leather.

_"Master Jasper?"_

_"I'm here, Sithis."_ He hissed softly. It was to late. He was to late. He knew that there wouldn't be any saving his dear friend.

_"I'm cold."_

_"I know. You'll be warm soon."_

_"Master is horrible at telling lies." _There was a small pause. Jasper didn't know how to respond. _"It's alright master."_

_"No, it isn't." _He caressed the serpent's head gently, offering what little comfort he could.

_"Will master grant a wish?"_

_"Any thing, Sithis."_

_"Make me into something beautiful."_

_"I don't think you could be anymore beautiful Sithis."_ The snake made a huffing noise. Jasper wasn't sure if the serpent was trying to laugh or was having trouble breathing.

_"Something beautiful... to give to some one loved." _He would protect his master's chosen, even in death; it was the last thing he would be able to do.

_"Any thing you want, Sithis."_ He heard and felt when that feeble heartbeat stopped. _"Any thing you want." _

Jasper sat for a time, his hand mechanically still stroking over cool scales. Sithis, his dear familiar, was gone. He'd seen death, many times, but he'd never been tied to any of them. Even in his past, or future as the case may be, he hadn't been particularly close to the deceased individuals. He had never _felt_ it so close, tugging and ripping at something inside of him. It was likely worse still because not only was Sithis his familiar, but a close friend as well, as he couldn't get along with many humans. He stared down at those sightless red eyes and inhaled the other scents in the room. Three humans. Three people he was going to find.

"I'll kill them for this."

Three people he was going to torture.

Jasper stood, taking several steps back and brandished his wand. He moved his wand, twisting it in elegant arcs as he murmured a spell. It was a kind of transfiguration, permanent once complete. Shining white scaled formed back together, healing before transforming into gleaming silver. Empty red eyes turned into burning rubies, reflecting the low light and giving parody of life. The silver body shrank and twisted, curling around until it became small enough to fit comfortably around a wrist. He gingerly plucked the piece of jewelry from the floor. The serpent gave a short his, contorting just slightly before falling silent.

~..~

Jasper was walked through the halls, heading to transfiguration, when he caught the faint scent of the ones he was looking for. He looked down the hall towards class, and easy turned away to follow the scents. Transfiguration wasn't important in comparison. He stalked through the winding halls, his steps quick and silent. The library, he was heading towards the library. With a quick flick of the wrist he was disillusioned and entering the library. They were in the far corner, tucked between three sets of shelves that made one of the few niches in the room. He walked to the opposite side of the shared shelf and peered over the tops of the books to get a good look at their faces without drawing attention. He recognized all three of them, none of which he would have suspected if not for his preternatural senses telling him so. All were Gryffindor students, which was predictable in itself, two were of his year and the last was just a year younger, and all three were on the quidditch team. They were generally good kids, good students who scored high, and had never shown an inclination towards violence.

"Kevin Rayburn, Malcolm Turner, and Cristoph Duncan." He mouthed silently as their names came to mind. Muggleborns. It made sense in a twisted way, but sense or not, none of them would be living out the rest of this year.

~..~

Jasper expertly finished off the ritual, anchoring the spell they created to find unplottable locations to the bracelet. Due to the once-living nature, and the spirit's accepting of his master's will, there hadn't been any interference between the spells. He picked up the bracelet from the center of several concentric circles that were filled by runes and ancient symbols. It was warm to the touch, a sign that the latent magic was still settling and conforming to its new host object. He cast a quick spell, destroying all traces of the cipher that splayed across the entirety of the floor. There couldn't be any traces left behind, and Jasper was going so far as to put a timed ward across this particular room to fall in ten years. It would take that long just for the sense of the ritual magic performed here to dissipate.

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**April**

Malcolm Turner was the son of two muggles, and he hated that fact more than anything else save for the times when the Slytherins would call him 'mudblood.' It irked him to no end that they thought they were superior just for the their so called blood purity. He was a good student, always studying and obtaining high scores, the teachers spoke well of his accomplishments, he had scored high on his OWLs, and he was also sixth year perfect and chaser on the quidditch team. Things could scarcely being going better. He didn't even notice the person stalking him until a stunner took him from behind.

~..~

Jasper cast a mobilicorpus and an another to hide the unconscious form of Malcolm as Jasper guided him through the halls to an isolated room in the dungeons. His first thought had been to use the room of requirement, but with the chance that some one could accidentally discover it as much as he had was to high. So, instead, he was taking the Gryffindor to the room adjacent to where he brewed his blood substitute since he'd heavily warded pretty much that whole corridor. It was far less risky.

The door opened with a whispered spell and closed and locked behind him. He dropped both spells, allowing the body to hit with a dull thud, and then he hissed a parelspell to hold Malcolm to the stone. He shot an ennervate. He waited no longer than the gasping breath Malcolm gave on his return to consciousness before delving into his mind, ripping through the memories, caring not for the pain such actions would cause. Malcolm had been the one to spot Sithis slithering through the shadows of the halls. He'd been the one to not using spells to hold Sithis but instead suggest to nail down the albino snake.

Jasper hissed in fury as he pulled away from the teenager's mind. It was bad enough to kill a familiar, any animal, but to torture... it was unforgivable. He intended to return every ounce of pain they'd given the snake to them. He paced the room as his victim moaned in pain. The noise slowly died off, meaning the hurt was fading away little by little. Jasper stopped just a bit away, looking down into brown eyes that were squinting at him.

"Cole?" He asked in confusion, then abruptly paled.

"Glad you know the reason for my visit Mr. Turner." Jasper smiled pleasantly. "Now, be so good as to scream for me." He wandlessly drove conjured stakes into Malcolm's hands and legs.

~..~

Jasper spelled the blood from his clothes and put the body in stasis to keep it from decomposing until he knew what he was going to do with it. It was a thought to throw it in the lake, but there wasn't any guarantee that it wouldn't find its way onto the shore for some wandering student or teacher patrol to find. Perhaps he would leave it to rot in the forbidden forest, leaving it exposed for all the scavengers to ravage? Jasper thought he deserved no less. He straightened his robes and walked out of the room, casting an extra locking charm as he walked away. He wondered how long it would be until some one noticed he was missing and how much longer after that until his friends looked at him with suspicion.

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**May**

A body had been found on the school grounds, just inside the forbidden forest. The extremities had been rotted away and the head had been curiously preserved. It had taken so long to find the missing Malcolm Turner due to the spells that had been set around the corpse. It couldn't be seen unless some one was specifically looking for the source of the smell of decomposing flesh, and it couldn't be smelt until one approached within ten meters. Ingenious, if Jasper did say so himself, considering how long it had taken them to find. He easily ignored Tom's questioning glance at his satisfied smile. No one could ever prove he did it. There wouldn't be anything to tie him to the death of this student, or the next two when they came about.

"Jasper?"

"Hmm?" He looked away from the Headmaster and over to Tom.

"Do you know anything?"

"Know anything? About what?" He sounded sincerely innocent. Tom wasn't buying it, he never did, because if anyone could pull of false sincerity, it was Riddle.

"No, but that would have interesting, would it not?"

~..~

Kevin Rayburn was the epitome of Gryffindor: prideful, arrogant, brash, not to mention insolent, all of which was barely countered by the fact that he kept his scores high and made an attempt at quidditch by being a reserve player. He wasn't well liked among his peers besides his small group and had managed to make enemies even among the Hufflepuffs. He wouldn't be missed. Jasper used the same method of capture as he had the previous student, a stunner from behind and a mobilicorpus to move him. He escorted the invisible form to the same room he'd used for Malcolm. Jasper woke him after binding him to the floor.

"Good of you to join me, Mr. Rayburn." Jasper took a seat next to him. "I heard that you prefer using knives to curses. How coincidental that I happen to share your enthusiasm in such things."

Panic stole over the young man's face as Jasper pulled a thin dagger from his inner robes. He slowly, and with great care, cut apart the thick Hogwart's robes. He tore away the remnants of clothes to display a lean, tan chest. Kevin's muscles tensed, showing he was trying to move to no avail. He traced the dagger around in small circles, as if debating on what he was going to do. Then, carelessly, he slashed. Kevin screamed and fought against the binding holding him to the floor. Jasper gave a beatific smile.

~..~

Jasper stood from the cooled pool of blood that surrounded the corpse. The ends of his robes and his sleeves along with the legs of his pants were entirely soaked with blood. It dripped with the floor as he stared down at the still form. Cuts and gashes spanned over chest and arms. The gaping wound across the throat, stretching from ear to ear, could have been considered a mercy strike. Jasper had been careful to leave the face alone, knowing that if the body were found he had wanted it to be identified. He _might_ have enjoyed that just a bit much. Still, there was only one more to go, Cristoph Duncan was the last one. A pleased smile touched his face and the bracelet tightened around his wrist. He checked the time; he was going to make it to dinner.

~..~

Rayburn's body had been found on the last day of May. It was beautiful out. Warm temperatures, sun, clear blue sky, the soft whispers of wildlife. It had been the perfect day, lovely in many ways. Vanessa Crow had been on a quick jaunt around the lake when she'd stumbled, quite literally, across the mutilated corpse of Kevin. She'd been shocked so bad that it had only been when her friends had reported her missing that either were found. Once more the face had been left strangely alone, though the rest of the body had been savaged. Aurors couldn't tell what had been done by the murder and what had been done by the various scavengers that frequented the area. After a speech from not only the Headmaster and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, but the Minister of Magic as well, aurors were stationed around various points within the school to prevent another kidnapping. They would be staying on as extra security until the end of the year.

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**June**

Jasper was following Cristoph through Hogsmead at a discrete distance. There were enough students present today that he wouldn't even be noticed among the mass. Tom was up at the school still, so Jasper was free to act. A smirk curved his lips, an idea already forming with the opportunity. This was it. Cristoph turned down a small alley formed by several houses. Jasper didn't follow though he did throw a stunner and a disillusionment charm afterwards. No one would find him unless they tripped over him for now. Jasper wandered about for close to fifteen minutes before ducking into the alley, casting a mobilicorpus, and heading towards the shrieking shack. No one would think it suspicious if they heard screams from there, after all that is what the shack was known for.

Jasper stretched out his senses, searching for life anywhere near the shack. Lucky for him, it was completely clear, not a person in sight. He stepped inside and dropped his final victim on the floor as he started to set wards to alert him to another presence, human or animal. When done, he turned his attention to the form that sat on the floor. He would leave Cristoph upstairs, bound, unconscious, and hidden until he could return tonight. If he didn't show up at the castle, then someone would start to get suspicious, especially after the circumstances these past two months. Jasper left Cristoph under the remnants of what used to be a bed and returned to the castle.

~..~

It was near on two in the morning when Jasper had opportunity to escape the school. With higher guard numbers and patrols, it had been hard to make it to any of the secret passages that lead back in to the small town. After making it to the passage though, it was all relatively easy. The shop he had slipped out of had very little in the way of locking charms and wards on the door for security. It was also empty at this time of night, as even the late goers had turned in. Chistoph was conscious when Jasper had finally made it to the house and pulled the worn and ratty mattress off of him. Jasper quickly bound him to the floor and released the silencing spell and other binds on him.

"Cole, you bloody wanker, what do you want?" Jasper raised an eyebrow at him.

"I had figured that would be obvious with the finding of your two friends." Jasper drawled. "Or did the obvious choice not occur to your puny brain?"

"That was you? You bastard!" He snarled.

"One would think it wise not to tempt the captor with torturing the captive." He sighed. "I suppose I had gotten my hopes to high."

"Why the hell are you doing this?"

"You killed Sithis." Jasper stated as if it were obvious, which he thought it was.

"The damn snake? You're killing people over a damn animal!"

"No, not very smart at all." He caressed his wand lovingly. "Did you know that the murder of a familiar results in an Azkaban term? The only reason I didn't give your names and file charges was the fact that I wouldn't get the end result I wanted."

"End result?"

"Why, your deaths of course."

"You're bloody insane!" Jasper tapped his wand against his lips in thought.

"I suppose that would be true, though I'm not entirely sure how that would apply to this situation. You see, even when I was sane, I was a vindictive son of a bitch. I give back as good as I get. Now shall we begin?"

"Begin what?"

"Did you think that I was just going to kill you and be done with it? I'm afraid not my dear fellow. When properly motivated, I enjoy a spot of torture."

"Torture?" His face had gone ashen and he pulled at the invisible bonds all the more.

"Oh, yes." He hissed with a smiled. "You should feel honored, this will be my first time casting the cruciatus curse on a human." He gave a mocking bow and twirled his wand with flourish. "_Crucio!_" Chirstoph screamed; Jasper laughed.

~..~

Jasper forwent going to his room when he returned to the castle, instead heading straight to the head boy's intent on curling up next to Tom. The sky was lit in a pale blue, the showings of a false dawn, where the sun hadn't risen. He snuggled down in the soft Slytherin colored sheets and blankets, enfolding himself against Tom's back and winding an arm around his waist. He gave a contented sigh. Tomorrow, Chirstoph would be found wandering through the town with his mind completely broken. He would never recover. It pleased him to no end, and now that that was finished with, the bracelet that Sithis gave himself for would be handed over to Tom to always protect him. Four hours passed by, the sun rose, and Tom came awake in his arms. Jasper felt the sudden tension in his muscles.

"Jasper, how did you get in here. I changed the password before I went to bed."

"Mm... I don't think you realize how _helpful_ your portrait guardian is. Did you know that most of the snake paintings, engravings, and statues that can talk think we are life mates?"

"Yes, I had come across that particular rumor." Jasper made a noise that could be interpreted as agreement.

"I have a gift for you, dear Tom."

"A gift."

"Mm hmm." There was shifting in the bed as Jasper moved around. Then a pale arm reached back in front of Tom, holding a shiny coil of metal. Tom took it gently, looking it over with a critical eye. It was beautifully detailed the scales formed with expert craftsmanship and gleaming rubies set into the serpentine face.

"Why ruby eyes?" He asked, expecting that such a piece would have emeralds to portray Slytherin's colors. Jasper debated for a moment, he'd never told that Sithis had been transfigured into a bracelet and, with a quick glance at the snake, decided to keep that information to himself.

"Because they match yours, Tom."

Tom turned it over in his hand's once more. It really was a piece of art. He really wanted to know where Jasper had gotten such an item. Exquisite, purely exquisite. An inscription across the belly scales of the snake caught his eye. It took a moment to recognize the strange shapes. They weren't letters, not really, but it was a language, usually only spoke. Parseltongue. Though he guessed that in this case it would be Parselwriting. He gave it a thoughtful look.

_'There is no good or evil, only power and those to weak to seek it.'_

~..~

When Jasper entered the Great Hall along side Tom he knew instantly that something was wrong. He also could guess what that something was. Aurors were placed strategically around the room, the head of the DMLE and the Minister were up at the head table with the headmaster. Dumbledore was giving him a surprisingly superior looked that seemed entirely out of character for him. It fit the situation however. He'd been found out, left some clue or witness that tied him to the two murders and the student that had ended up in St. Mungo's for cruciatus exposure. The last bastard would never recover. Jasper had broken his mind. Tom went to sit down and Jasper caught him gently by the sleeve of his robe.

"Jasper?"

"Tom, no matter what happens, I don't want you to interfere." Jasper went to move forward when his own sleeve was caught this time.

"What's going on? What have you done?"

"They are planning on bringing me in for the deaths of two students and destroying the mind of another. I don't plan on obliging them."

"You are going to fight."

"I am."

"You are going to lose."

"I will."

"Then why fight?"

"Because I refuse to let some dementors suck out my soul, and the only why they are taking me down is with the killing curse." Actually Jasper wasn't to sure about that last either.

"You could run." Though Tom's face was expressionless, Jasper could taste the worry.

"Dear Tom, my own Lord Voldemort." He whispered as he traced his jaw, watching as Tom's eyes widened.

"You really know more than you ought." Jasper laughed softly.

"I do." He said agreeably. "Promise you will do nothing to interfere." He hadn't thought that he would have to extract a promise from Tom. The boy was a Slytherin, not a self-sacrificing Gryffindor.

"I won't." He swore.

"I love you, dear Tom." Jasper took his lips in a chaste kiss before moving away towards the head table. Tom watched him go with an unfamiliar ache that settled in his chest. He had a horrible feeling about this.

"Mr. Cole." Headmaster Dippet said as he approached the table.

"Headmaster Dippet." Greeted smoothly. "Minister, Head of the Department."

"You know why we're here." The minister stated.

"Indeed."

"Then I'll ask that you come along quietly." Jasper gave a serene smile as he turned to Rowe, the Head of the magical law enforcement.

"I'm afraid that I'm not the type to just allow myself to be taken away."

"Aurors!" They moved in. Jasper casually cast not only an avada kedavra, but a crucio.

"Really minister." He chided. "Do you honestly want to do this surrounded by children? I promise not to run if you wish to clear them out."

"Students to your commons!" The Headmaster called, breaking them from the stupor of seeing one of their own use forbidden curses with such ease. The teachers had long since stood from their seats and were moving amongst the aurors to help bring him in.

Jasper watched, twirling his wand between his fingers, as the students vacated the room quickly. Tom was the only one to look back for just a moment. It amused him that the aurors still had yet to fire any sort of spell at him. He'd already killed one of their number and tortured a third. One would think that they wouldn't hesitate with the obvious right before them. When the last student had walked from the room and the doors slid closed, sealing the exit, the officials turned to him again.

"We'll give you one last chance of surrender." Rowe offered. Jasper smiled.

"Piss off." He chained several curses together.

The room suddenly came to life with spells, hexes, and curses. Jasper danced around the room, preternatural speed giving him the upper hand in evasion. He used the aurors as human shields, dragging them in front of spells that he couldn't dodge. They were useful cannon fodder. They swore at him, claimed he was working with the dark lord and trying to tear down the school from the inside. He called them all fools. Claws tipped his fingers as he drew upon the vampiric magic he held. He shredded a professor's face as he cast a spell towards the Minister. A blasting hex took Jasper in the side, sending him off his feet and into the nearby wall. He hissed at them, throwing himself into the crowd and tearing through their ranks with striking ease.

More spells. Screams. Orders. Blood on his hands, in his mouth. Bodies on the floor. Jasper was tearing them down. He could see the fear the lit their eyes as scarlet painted his face and the floor. He cast another crucio, holding Rowe down for only a few seconds before he was forced to dodge another flurry of spell. Their curses were getting progressively darker, finally giving up on taking him down with a stunner or stopping him with a binding.

Jasper smirked as he heard the words. Knew who it was, and also knew that he should've known better. He looked over his shoulder. There wasn't time to dodge. A flash of green, the same color his eyes used to be. A smug looking Dumbledore. He only had a single regret as the killing curse hit him, rocking his body back. He wouldn't get to see Tom take the bastard out. Jasper's world was swept away.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Awakening**_

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_We sometimes congratulate ourselves at the moment of waking from a troubled dream; _

_it may be so the moment after death._

_~ Nathaniel Hawthorne_

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_He was falling. Sliding. There was black, not just darkness. An endless sea of black with the steady rise and fall of gentle waves that somehow cascaded down in a spiral. There were whispers, voices to low to hear. The words meshed together. It was like they were chanting. He was confused, numb, cold. It was empty, so black and empty. Where was he? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Was this Heaven? Hell? Purgatory? The whispers seemed to rise and fall with the tide of the never-ending ocean. Something brushed against him. Fabric. A dark cloth that seemed spun from the very shadows of this nether world. The whispers were louder though no more distinguishable. The fabric became less substantial, suddenly as fleeting as the voices he heard. An arch came into view. It was old. The power it exuded made his skull pound and an icy chill so cold it burn wrapped around him. Symbol wrapped around it's legs and curved over the top, all of it far more ancient than any thing he'd ever seen before. The cloth swayed gently as if there were a sudden breeze and dropped him at its base. There was barely time to look around as a soft glow stole him from the room._

**Aug 27, 1994**

He woke with a harsh gasp. His body hurt, burned. It was the only thing that let him know that what had just transpired hadn't been a dream. He looked blearily around, trying to figure out where he was exactly. It was surprisingly easy to recognize, considering that he'd only been here once before and that the previous time he had been a tad... how shall we say... distracted? Yeah, distracted worked. There was, however, no body to speak of. Cain's remains had disappeared some where.

"I must say that when we met in the past that I hadn't been expecting you to be Harry Potter." Harry looked over. Canary yellow hair, tall, and pale, the vampire hadn't changed much.

"Jean-Claude." Jean-Claude gave a pleased smile.

"I'm so glad that you remember me. Our last visit was so short."

"You're hard to forget. No one else has that particular shade of hair." The vampire frowned a bit at that and pulled some of his locks over his shoulder to examine it.

"You must not have ran into many other vampires, because _this_ is what blond hair does after a few hundred years of no sun." He sighed in mourning. "And my hair used to be so beautiful to. Perfectly sun kissed."

"Not to interrupt, but why are you here?"

"Ah, to help you get ready of course."

"Ready?" Jean-Claude nodded.

"Oh my yes." He started counting on his hand. "I have to introduce you to your generals and your close blood relations, we must introduce you to the courts, we have to reconstruct the council from the ground up, we'll have to pick a base of operations so to speak, and I already sent a sevant to fetch your school things so no worries about that. Now what else was there..." He tapped his lips. "Oh! You'll also have to elect some one to take the seat for the clans that no longer carry the royal blood line, like the Sang clan. I think that's it for now."

"And how exactly do you plan for this to be accomplished considering that I go back to school in a few days?"

"You won't be going to school. Not this year at any rate."

"What? Why?"

"It is one year before your disappearance. You can't interact with any one you might have had contact with when you first lived this year."

"Alright then. Does this place have a floo?"

"I suppose so... where are we going?"

"The Black Lotus."

"In France?"

"That would be the one. Where is this anyway?"

"Facil's Palace of Scarlet." Facil? Who the hell was Facil? Harry shrugged it off for the moment. Where he was, was of little importance compared to where he needed to be. Still he couldn't help but ask about the place he was in.

"This is a palace?"

"No, but he is a conceited bastard. Go ahead and floo over. I have to send a few missives to the generals so meet us there within thirty minutes."

"So, about choosing those to head the bloodlines..." Harry trailed of in question.

"Yes, about that." Jean-Claude started. "Because of your position, that of a student, you'll need to have some one operate as leader for each of your bloodlines. That is, unless you wish to drop out of your magic school."

"No. There's a few things I need to... settle."

"Very well. You're the only one with royal blood any more, a queer coincidence that."

"Story of my life."

"Indeed, but because of that unique position, you'll be choosing thirteen people who shall lead the vampire nations once again. In theory at least. I doubt it shall go so smoothly. Usually one would pick some one from each clan, a Sang member to lead the Sang Clan and so on. Unfortunately, you are the last of the Anguis line."

"About that... what are they supposed to be able to do? And what about those six clans that no longer have a name?"

"The lost clans... well, we'll talk about those once we have a place to move from as I'm afraid that it is a very complicated process. The same could be said of the Luna Clan, as one of their main strengths has been cursed away."

"What clan are you from?"

"Ah, the Fuga. Thus far I am the only one to obtain the ability of full flight. As for the abilities to you own line, our knowledge is severely limited. Well, limited would be putting it lightly. We know almost as much about that particular clan's abilities as we do the Lost ones." Jean-Claude gestured towards the floo and Harry disappeared in a burst of bright green flames.

~..~

The 'generals' that Jean-Claude talked about looked less like they should, that being warriors, and more like they had just walked out of a BDSM club with all the leather they were wearing. Save for the single blond, besides Jean-Claude, who looked more like he stepped off a pureblood walk of life minus the wizard's robes. Not to mention he had an eerie resemblance to the Malfoy family with those stormy grey eyes and hair that had some how managed to avoid the strange shade that hundreds of years of darkness gave it. He was informed that at least one person from every clan was present save for the Umbra line whom he would have to contact on his own. Apparently he was "_one scary mother fucker that every vampire or other magical creature knew better than to mess with" _followed up by, _"and that was _before_ the crazy son of a bitch decided to storm a castle chock full of vampire hunters._"

Of course, for now, Harry was content to observe the six other vampires in the room as they bickered back and forth. Supposedly, according to his source (Jean-Claude), these were some of the oldest vampires roaming the world, save for three others commonly known as Cain, Mikhail, Raina. Knowing what became of Cain, or would become as it hadn't yet happened, set him at ease. Harry wasn't power hungry, that hadn't changed, but he was a little concerned (after years of contemplation) that perhaps Cain had a few hundred 'children' that would be of his obvious strength and that they would attempt to take his life. Or, rather, un-life as it were. He watched as one with strikingly red, as in really red, hair launched himself at the Malfoy-like blond after a snide comment. This was going no where fast. Jean-Claude seemed to pick up on his irritation and immediately called silence to the fight with a swell of magic that had disturbed the temporary wards around their meeting place behind a copse of trees. The full moon gave enough light for Harry to be able to distinguish them immediately.

"Why don't each of you introduce yourselves to the young lord?" Though phrased like a question, it wasn't one.

"Alejandro." Even from just saying his name, Harry knew that his accent was thick. His distinct Spanish features let him know, exactly, what accent it happened to be. His crow's wing black hair was cut closely to his head, a modern look that seemed more suited to a businessman than a seductive vampire that prowled through the clubs looking for willing victims.

"Cassandra." The next spoke. He couldn't place where she was from, though he would guess that it was one of the northern countries if only judging by her abnormally pale skin. Her eyes were the darkest Harry had ever seen, no difference between the color of the iris and pupil to tell them apart. The void hued eyes seemed a match for her hair, which was a different shade of black than Alejandro's.

"Brutus." Harry vaguely recognized this man, as if he'd seen him in a book or painting some where before. Dark hair and olive skinned, Harry would admit that Brutus was a good looking fellow and not over built like those with muscles often were now.

"Robert." The most unusual thing about this vampire was that there was nothing unusual about him. Brown hair, brown eyes, not to tall or short, not to tan or pale, he was perfectly average in every way. It was slightly unsettling, and it honestly made him a little paranoid. People who looked like Robert did always made the best assassins.

"Lucien." Wow, there wasn't any way that he _couldn't_ be related to the Malfoys. He just had to be. That face, that hair, those eyes, _that name_, hell, he could pass for being Lucius' brother if it wasn't for the fact that he was hundreds of years older.

"Damien." This from the last of the entourage, the one with the very vivid red hair. He was pretty in a very feminine way, with long hair, heart shaped face, and large green eyes bordered in long lashes all finished off with a very sensuously formed mouth.

"Now that you know their names, I shall start with the important bits." Jean-Claude smile and took a seat on a tree stump. "Robert and myself hail from the Fuga line. Lucien is of the Sol, Brutus of Sang, Damien of Ignis, and Cassandra and Alejandro of the Luna. The head of the Umbra line is called The Dragon. We are the generals, the judges, jury, and executioners of the vampire race. We were here when the council fell and so it shall be when it rises."

Harry felt no small amount of confusion. If these vampires, these generals, were so powerful and had enough ability to basically police their world and hold themselves as their government then why weren't they already this 'council'? And following that note, how the hell did they have a government anyway? The last he'd known all the clans were divided and were basically a law unto their own. When he voiced this question it wasn't Jean-Claude, but Lucien who answered.

"Vampires will keep to their own more often than not, and so, disputes are often clan matters any way, but we are the ones who make sure all our laws are held to. If a few rogues get out of line, they are dealt with severely by our select few. We have a no tolerance policy." Harry pursed his lips in thought before deciding -while readying his wand- that honesty might suit him best again.

"I don't know what your exact policies are, but I plan on joining the Dark Lord Voldemort in the very near future." There was silence. Complete and total silence. Even the wildlife had quieted, as if holding its breath and waiting for the inevitable explosion.

"He's dead." Damien hissed.

"Not entirely. I'm afraid that I'll have to lay credence to those rumors of immortality. Well, in as much as that he can't be kill conventionally." Harry was at least expected to be threatened by now, but the other vampires hadn't even made a hostile move. "So there's no problem?" He asked casually.

"I don't suppose so." Lucien started. "We've usually kept out of wizard conflicts for the most part, as following either side has lead to very few benefits towards our race. I'm more interested as to why you, now an ancient, are so willing to follow this wizard."

"Well, technically, it's still my war isn't it? Becoming a vampire didn't make me less of a wizard." The vampires stared at him in some confusion before Brutus whipped around to stare at Jean-Claude.

"I believe that you forgot to mention this fact?" The blond gave a semi sheepish smile.

"Not so much forgot as purposefully avoiding a topic. Though I suspect you will be more, or perhaps less, surprised when you find out the young lord's identity." Harry was surprised this time.

"You didn't tell them who I am?" He was the perfect picture of incredulity. Why _wouldn't_ he tell them? There were absolutely no downsides to doing so. Especially since there was already a Harry Potter alive in this time so that even if the wizards did find out, it would be proven wrong.

"It was going to be a surprise." Jean-Claude gave a discomfiting smile. "Would you like the honors?" The vampire gave a dramatic gesture, as if he were on a stage and there was a crowd to play to.

"Harry Potter." He gave a swooping bow but keeping his eyes on their faces to witness the shock. He wasn't disappointed.

~..~

It had been a week thus far. The human Harry Potter had resumed his life of innocence, something which vampire Harry was jealous of. Innocence was hard to come by. He was staying in a Spanish Villa that belonged to Alejandro. It was just large enough to accommodate all of them with a single empty room left over. Alejandro was a very obliging person, and he seemed very passive compared to the rest, even Jean-Claude. But, though passive he was, Alejandro was one who attacked with a ruthless cruelty mentally and emotionally. He knew just where to cut, the place where those words hurt most. He was teaching that to Harry.

"You're not even a whore who sells himself for money, a kind word and gentle touch is enough payment for you." Harry flinched at that. He wasn't now, but he used to be. They both knew it. "The perfect victim," Alejandro said mockingly. "But you don't even know when to scream for help. You practically beg for it like a sl-"

A sharp blow snapped his head back, rocking his body with it though he didn't lose footing. Harry let out a shuddering breath and centered himself before stepping away. He _hated_ that word. It was like a flashback to his childhood. Not sexually, never that. His family couldn't even bare to touch him with their hands let alone fall to molestation, but for beatings... almost that exact sentence had been uttered by Dudley a few times, learning it from his father who had used that exact phrase. Alejandro righted himself and peered at Harry warily, as if he'd done something unexpected.

"Call me that again, Alejandro," He hissed into the quiet that had settled about the room. "And not only will I kill you, but I shall enjoy finding ways to torture you until you plead for your death." Harry was long gone from the room, and likely the villa, before anyone spoke. Brutus gave a drawn sigh.

"I must congratulate you, you are the first of us to piss him off so entirely."

Cassandra, who had been looking out the curtain, turned back to the rest of the vampires in a room. Her face was set in a firm scowl and her topaz eyes were cold. She wasn't angry, not really, but she was disappointed. Alejandro, for all his cruelty, was an observant man. His provoking the young lord was intentional, but what could he possibly gain from such an action? Harry Potter held dominion over their lives. That was the way the magic worked. Why would he tempt it so?

"That was foolish, Alejandro." She spoke softly. "You, better than any of us, understand the magic that surrounds the royal lines and those sworn to serve them. Are you so eager for death that you call its name and mock it?" The man snarled at her.

"You can see that he is weak. He is not fit to lead us! He will drag us to ruin by following this Dark Lord. And for what? He never even gave a reason that he would bow and scrape to such a man. A true leader will never kneel before another!"

"I had not taken you for a fool." Lucien spoke, standing in the doorway that Harry had left through not long ago. "You've always been rash, but never before foolish. Perhaps you should step into the sun, save us all the time and energy we would waste fixing your mistakes." Alejandro was about to retort when Jean-Claude cut him of with a swift motion whose magic closed his throat tightly.

"For now you are no longer welcome among us. I shall call you back when the time has come or the young lord requests your presence." The Spanish vampire jerked away as if he'd been struck, but he said nothing as he vanished. Jean-Claude turned to the rest of the room. They lowered their eyes. There may have not been a true lord among them since the royal lines, but Jean-Claude was the closest, able to call upon the magic that the royals had used to bind the ones who swore fealty to them. The magic was more often used as protection or reward, but there were times it was used for punishment or torture. "Let this be a lesson. We have been comrades for many years, but we shall not lose this chance for greatness to careless words. I will not tolerate it. The lord will be taught how to use the powers of his lines, the rules of our culture, and how to lead our race. You each know already what your responsibilities are, see to them." He sent them away with a glance.

~..~

Time. It was such a strange thing, Harry thought. He'd been to the past, lived in the future, and was now stuck in the present playing vampire lord. He just wanted to see Tom again, curl up against him in bed like he used to. But then, he wasn't Tom any more, was he? That feeling was horrible. Briefly, he wondered what had happened when he died. How had they explained his death? How had Dumbledore gotten away with using an unforgivable? What it his fault, his death, that had finished twisting Tom? Guilt welled up in him, but he quickly stuffed it away. He wanted to go see him. It was a need that clawed in his chest. But he wasn't there, not yet. It would be a year before he could see him. Harry sighed and flopped back onto the cool grass and let himself bathe in the moonlight. Brooding wasn't why he had come out here in the first place. Damn Alejandro, and damn himself for allowing such a reaction. He was taught more self control than that. He shouldn't have just snapped and lashed out. He had thought that the last time would be exactly that, the last. He would have been where -when- he belonged and he could continue on with his life, unrestricted by the rules that governed the past. Harry folded his arms underneath his head and gazed at the star spattered sky. It looked so lonely and empty.

"Hurry back, dear Tom." He whispered.

~..~

"No, no! You are doing it all wrong!" Damien said. "The fire isn't just some thing you control, it is another part of you. An extension of your being once your magic has touched it."

Harry hissed at the man. This had been happening for hours. He could call the fire, but it had a tendency to run rampant after a few moments, like a disobedient dog or child. He barely heard the end of a disparaging remark when the fire leapt up into Harry's hand and allowed itself to be launched the distance between them. The fireball exploded on contact, leaving blackened soot marks and singed red hair in its wake. Damien scowled at him and then raised both his hands, fire alighting instantaneously.

"Err... sorry?"

"Not good enough."

"I'm _really_ sorry?"

"Run."

"Yeah." He gave a quick nod, turned on his heel, and sprinted away with all the strength he could muster.

~..~

Cassandra was good at what she did. Manipulation. She was casual about it, getting what she wanted with nary a thought. Harry had seen this while they walked among the humans in Madrid. Her ability to read minds also helped in that department. She was the embodiment of what he had told Tom so long ago; use their desires and dreams against them. And so, with all the skills she possessed, she was able to spot and point out what Harry had avoided since the beginning of his immortal life.

"The human, Dumbledore, he is quite clever. He compensates his age with having such tight control on things around him."

"He's just a kindly old man, Cassandra, and I doubt that he controls everything." She gave him a searching look, stopping in the middle of the street that was completely empty save for only a few cars. The buildings rose above them, cutting off what little moon light there was this night. The muted glow from a forgotten lamp inside a pharmacy was the only light on the street.

"You are not so naive, so you must be blinding yourself to it."

"He is not a bad man." He said.

"Non," She seemingly agreed, a French accent suddenly coming to the fore. "I doubt very much that he is 'bad', but even you must realized that this headmaster doesn't see the devastation his actions cause to a single person. He is a 'great' man, and great men are for the people, not the individual." Harry didn't say anything, but she continued on. "I know you see it, know that you realize the lengths that this Headmaster has gone to in your life."

She turned and the continued down the street, turning down a side road where the building seemed even closer. The cut through a large park, a sign, which proclaimed its name went ignored. The trees were a lot less claustrophobic than the tightly pack homes and shops behind them. Silence hung about them for quite a time, before she broke it.

"What is this man to you, that you would ignore this?" She asked, desperately trying to understand.

"What do you mean, he's just my headmaster." She shook her head.

"Were you lovers of a sort?" Harry physically cringed, a look of distaste on his face. "There must have been some attachment for you to play oblivious." She pondered aloud.

Harry stopped in his tracks and actually thought about that. What was Albus Dumbledore to him? They weren't friends, family, confidents, or any other such rot. They were barely even associates if he truly thought about it. And if he looked even further, what was with the man wanting to seal away his vampire heritage, and how could he turn a blind eye to that. Was it because it no longer mattered, he was a vampire and that was that? He'd never taken such a careless attitude before, so why now? Harry frowned. Why was it, that even when Cassandra pointed it out, that he still felt he could trust Dumbledore? In fact, besides the single time before his trip to the past or when it came to Tom, he'd never felt a real dislike of the man. Her hand captured his face, her topaz eyes looking into his, and before he could do anything to stop her, she was in his mind.

He chased her through shadows of memories, cruel dreams, and twisted nightmares, but he couldn't catch her. She had been doing this far longer than him. Her prowess in the mind arts was second to only one, her master. He had no chance of topping her skill with his sheer brute strength, but he had to try. He didn't let just any one into his mind. He heard himself snarl in the real world, the sound echoing across his mind, and felt the magic he called up. If he couldn't force her to leave with his mind, he would do so by physically removing her. Cassandra must have felt the echoes of his intentions because she was gone instantly, leaping ten meters away as flames lit up his hands and arms, burning the sleeves of his T-shirt. His elemental abilities formed up a whip, reminding him of a spell he'd seen Tom use, and he lashed out at her. There was sadistic pleasure as he tasted the spike in her fear as she frantically tried to beat away the flames that had splashed on to her clothes.

"Stay out of my head." He spat. She frowned at him, a barely there downturn of her red painted lips.

"The compulsions and any other hold he has on you will fade when the present you disappears for his journey in the coming summer." She said, turning away and walking down the street as if nothing had happened.

~..~

"So wait... the Luna clan was the birth of werewolves?" Jean-Claud tapped his lips.

"I suppose you could put it like that. The curse on the Luna royal line didn't so much as make a new species as mutate that power that they had."

"The power to change into wolves right?"

"Yes, and the curse stripped the prince of his vampire abilities, basically rendering him a normal human unless on nights of the full moon."

"So why did the lines separate?"

"The liege had a five personal advisors to help him keep up to date with the state those of his line were in. They claimed that a non-vampire prince still being present would cause unrest and they would revolt. He wasn't able to kill his own, so he banished him. The prince decided that his curse would be the start of a new race, one that would conquer and rule over the vampires."

"That didn't work to well."

"Indeed not. Many of his children were enslaved to the vampire clans."

"For what?"

"What reason would they need? They were there, they were wild, and the vampires wanted to prove that no animal would rule over them."

"Seems a little arrogant."

"Isn't that our nature?" Jean-Claude asked.

"I suppose." Harry gave a short pause. "So what about the lost clans then? Why isn't there any information around on them? Or the Anguis line?"

"The lost clans just disappeared, taking all the information with them. It was if they had never existed. Their stronghold and forts had gone with them. If it weren't for our books stating that there were thirteen clans, we would have no proof."

"So... if there are supposed to be thirteen, and there are only seven now, how am I supposed to pick the other six?"

"We suspect that there are vampires of the present, whether turned non-magical humans or wizards, who would express an unusual ability. When you designate them the head of their lines, we theorize that their abilities would become that lines qualities and be able to be passed on."

"You make it sound like vampires give birth."

"No, an un-life cannot give new life. Well... except for some of the Sol clans males."

"Why is that?"

"A vampire's body temperature is too cold. The female cannot support life with her, and the male is unable to donate his portion in the procedure."

"So the difference is body temperature?"

"Yes."

"So why can't the females of the Sol clan give birth. Shouldn't their body temperature be high enough?"

"It is, but she wouldn't be able to pass on the nutrients that the infant would need."

"Is there any possible way for a female vampire to give birth?"

"No."

"Not even by magical means?"

"No. Is there a reason you are insistent in this line of questions?" Harry paused, thinking about it.

"My mother was a vampire."

~..~

Right and wrong. Harry hadn't had that debate with himself for a very long time. He'd stopped asking himself if what he was doing was right or wrong a very long time ago, but he couldn't stop it from appearing in his head once more. Halloween had come and gone, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, Easter, all one after another until he was sitting just on the cusp of Voldemort's rebirth ceremony. And now, just when the person he wanted to see the most was about to be resurrected, he was wondering if it was wrong to stand at his side. Harry felt more than heard Lucien approach him, stopping just short of bathing himself in the afternoon light that poured in the window. Harry suspected that it was a vampire thing, his aversion to light, though even as a vampire, Harry had never had it.

"You've been looking out that window since yesterday. Cassandra and Brutus are starting to grow worried."

"It's tonight."

"Hmm?"

"Tonight is the day Voldemort returns. We'll have to move up plans."

"So you have decided where we are staking a claim?"

"The First City." As the words left his mouth he felt Lucien hit with such stillness that even the flows of magic around him found pause.

"You're mad. We have no chance against the dementors. To long a life and to many memories. We would fall within minutes."

"The dementors won't be there."

"And you are so sure?"

Harry gave a wry smile, still not turning from the window. He was very sure. The dementors would flee Azkaban in the last week of September. He stared at his reflection in the window pane, a reflection different than how he looked now, one of a boy who really was just a boy. Solemn green eyes stare back at him, as if the other knew what was to be and saw the futility of trying to convince the present him. Right or wrong. Right or wrong. Harry turned away from the window abruptly, startling Lucien from his thoughts. It seemed that the closer he drew to a time where he could see the people he once knew, the more conflicted about everything he became. Back then, it was just so simple to say that he was going to do this, or going to do that, but now... it felt like there was a certain restraint.

"What are you thinking about?" Lucien asked in that quiet voice of his.

"Right and wrong." Harry says honestly, finding no point in keeping it to himself.

"What about it?"

"Whether it is right or wrong to stand at the dark lord's side with all their hopes riding my shoulders," He says, nodding toward the window, and then follows that with, "and whether or not if I even give a damn anymore."

Lucien frowns briefly before the expression disappears into his more neutral facade. This was the first time that he'd actually seen Harry, their lord, so ditatched from it, like he was watching from a distance and not truly involved. Then again, perhaps he wasn't. He wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived any longer, not really. All the vampires who had spent time with him realized that in spite of the fact that they hadn't known him before.

"Do you care?"

"I... don't know. My memories of them are... faded, distant. I can't even remember what most of them look like. When I think of Voldemort, all I see is Tom, but I know that's not right. I remember the Weasley's having red hair or Dumbledore traipsing about in completely clashing colors, but that's it. Does being a vampire change you so much?"

"How do you mean?"

"Think about it. Humans weren't supposed to live forever. Have you ever wondered that our minds cope by slowly taking away from old memories, almost wiping our minds of the times before. I know that Cassandra, Brutus, and Jean-Claude can't even remember their human lives, and mine is so faded that it seems almost irrelevant to me now, even though I know different."

"I suppose I can understand where you draw that conclusion. None of us has taken the time to examine the mental effects becoming a vampire has beyond the obvious bloodlust and occasional surface instincts."

They stood in silence for a long time, Harry eventually moving back to the window as the sun fell and darkness crept upon them. His magic was waiting in intense anticipation, his dark tuned for the moment of Voldemort's awakening. A pleased hum across his dark alerted him. Even so far away, he was so familiar with Tom that he could sense the magic of the ritual starting. His magic moved, tendrils of energy reaching out. He heard Lucien gasp as the dark searched him over, coaxing forth his own magic, before drawing away, not finding who it was looking for. Bones of the father. Flesh of the servant. Blood of the enemy. The scar that marred his arm ached. The magic reached a crescendo and Harry could almost hear the beat of it as it released and came crashing down like a tidal wave. Harry couldn't stop his body from arching as it washed over him, sparks of pleasure chasing each other down his spine. A lazy smile stole his features as the feeling faded away.

"Welcome back." He murmured.

Then Harry turned abruptly. He wouldn't, couldn't, wait any longer. He swept a thick black shroud off a chair and up over his shoulders. It would take some time to locate Tom, the other had always been paranoid, but he would get there, and when he did... Harry's steps barely faltered. When he did, then he would decide whether it was better to remain Jasper Cole or Harry Potter.

"I shall send word at another time. Goodbye, Lucien."

"Farewell My Lord."

~..~~..~~..~

A/N:

Thank you to all my reviewers. You have no idea how pleased I was with the response to the last chapter. This one is, unfortunately, shorter than my others, which is because it happens to be a filler chapter due to how I had written the first two. I had forgotten I had to write it. Heh. And yes, that is the 'Veil' in the beginning. And if any one has suggestions for a better summary, lord knows I don't, let me know.

_**Rokkis: **_You're the first to mention it, but their stories and quite a few others were the inspiration for writing this. Glad you picked up on it.

_**Misorano: **_I'm planning on addressing your questions in the next chapter or the one after. Hopefully it won't be a long wait.

_**.L: **_Well, thanks for the long review, and I'm pretty sure that was the longest review I've ever had.

_**Kitsunechibiko:**_ His talking patterns (Harry/Jasper) weren't actually done on purpose, but, since I've done it once, it will probably happen again. Take it as... that since he's lived for so long, certain situations will bring certain patterns to the fore. Of course, I'm not known for consistency so let's just pretend that I keep to that.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Year of the Serpent**_

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_Where we are, there are daggers in men's smiles_

_~ Donalbain, in Macbeth (William Shakespeare)_

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**Aug 17, 1995**

It seemed a long time, though it couldn't have been more than a month, a month and a half at most, since Harry had left Lucien and the others back at the villa to go on his search for Voldemort. Normally, such a search would be nigh impossible. The Dark Lord always sequestered himself behind thick, high level wards that nothing could penetrate when he wasn't out on business. Luckily for Harry, he had and inside man... perhaps snake is a better term, to find him. Sithis, even while long gone in spirit, was still connected to him. The bracelet that Tom had worn, and still wore, did more than just find unplottable locations, magical objects, and offer protection. It was a way for Harry to find Voldemort if he ever needed to. The wards the Dark Lord used just put off the inevitable. And inevitable it was.

Harry was standing just on the other side of the wards, watching the vague colors swirl together, forming walls, before vanishing as if they had never been. He was waiting for the others to start arriving. The wards would let him pass, but Voldemort would be alerted to his presence when he did so. So, to cover his approach, he was waiting for those summoned to appear. A crack of apparition alerted him to the arrival of some of the death eaters, and he casually stepped through the wards with them, hiding in the shadows that the manor house cast. He slipped through a servant's door, one that entered straight into the kitchen, and headed towards the room Voldemort was currently located.

Voldemort was sitting in a cushioned chair that rested upon a raised dais. He was garbed in dark robes that hid his entire for from view and a hood shadowed his face. Those who had appeared in the graveyard just after his resurrection were the closest to the throne, taking a knee like some form of dark knights. There were about twenty others, further back, who were also kneeling, but their bowed backs made them look like hunched, twisted things. They all rose to their feet at his soft command.

"How strange," He started softly. "That I see so many of you here on this night, considering that on my first call only few of you had appeared. What is it you seek to gain by prostrating yourselves before me now?" His wand seemingly appeared in his pale hand and he pointed the wooden rod at the group before him. Those who hadn't shown when he called from the graveyard were going to receive their full punishments. He was going to enjoy it.

That was when Harry decided to step forward from his hidden place among the shadows. At first he hadn't planned on interrupting the meeting, but just being in such a close proximity... He had to admit that his self-control was waning. A gasp from one of the minions drew all the other's attention. Wands were pointed at him in an instant, though no curses were thrown. He was obscured from view, much the same way Voldemort was at present. The death eaters parted before him, leaving him a clear path to their lord and master, and closed behind him, cutting off escape. He could see into the shadows of Voldemort's hood, and found himself stunned on what the other looked like. Gone was that devilishly handsome face, and gone were the luxurious dark curls of hair and charming smirk. In its place was a pale, near on sickly, visage that was barely touched by the light framing of scales that seemed to run just beneath the skin. The only thing familiar in that face were those burning red eyes.

_"Oh, Dear Tom."_ He hissed out, ignoring the gasps and tightened wand holds around him. _"What magic you have wrought on yourself. Gone is your handsome face and charismatic smile, leaving naught but the cunning serpent in view."_

_"Who are you to come here and say such things to I, Lord Voldemort?"_ He raised his wand, the cruciatus curse already on his lips.

Before the dark curse left his wand, Harry attacked, if it could be called such. His magic, his dark, struck out, much like the serpent he'd compared Tom to, and latched on to the dark lords own darkness. The wand in Voldemort's hand jerked with the sudden tension that invaded his body in the fight to keep from writhing across the chair with feelings he hadn't experience in such a long time. Lust and passion so much darker than any thing he could remember spun up his body, leaving a fine tremble in his arm as the only physical manifestation. Harry had to hand it to him, Voldemort had amazing self control.

_"Come now, don't you remember me?"_ He pulled away his outer cloak with dramatic flourish, letting it settle on the floor in a crumple pile.

Red eyes clashes with hollow gold, and Voldemort understood who he had been dealing with. It was impossible though. That man, that vampire, had died long ago, by the man who was leading the opposing faction no less. What stood before him couldn't be any thing more than a ghost. This... this was some cruel joke for the fates to play. Bring back the ghost of his dead lover to toy with his mind. He hissed at the form, throwing out those accusations.

_"I never died, I just came home."_ He then stopped and looked around to the wands that were still held on him. _"Do you really want to continue this discussion in front of your minions?"_

_"They can't understand us."_

_"As if that has ever mattered."_ Bringing up Tom's penchant for privacy was always a good way to end up in a sequestered room with no one else around.

_"We shall talk later."_ The dark lord hissed and then turned back to face his followers. "Put your wands away. This one poses no threat." He waved Harry to the side of the room.

The meeting progressed from there, with several rounds of cruciatus. Harry was a little uneasy admitting it, even to himself, but he couldn't help but be entertained by the display. Voldemort was soon giving them their orders, telling them to gather information and that they had to lie low for now as the Minister did their job for them in destroying Dumbledore's and Potter's reputation. Of course, after the little savior had gone missing, their reputation was old news.

"And Lucius, locate the boy." He hissed last as he dismissed the death eaters. He then turned to his guest who was leaning calmly against the wall. "We shall talk now, follow me." And he swept from the room and off to one of his many studies.

The study they entered was done, surprisingly, in warm tones. Soft burgundy carpet stretched to the walls and the wood furniture, book cases, a desk, and a coffee table, were all darkly polished but held the faintest undertones of red. The sofa and chairs were dark as well, not quite reaching a shade of black but to dark to determine what color they might really be. The only light in the room was a fireplace with flames that just barely reached up from the two logs sitting inside. It was comfortable and almost made Harry want to lounge back with a glass a firewhiskey or some good scotch.

"Explain." Voldemort ordered, and Harry sighed. The beginning would be the best start place for most, but under the circumstances, he supposed that he might take a different approach.

"Vampires born to royal lines are taken from their own time and sent to another to learn about their place in the future. We are transported among the years to learn various lessons. The same is true for me, though I suppose that I might be a special case as I have claim to not one, but five royal lines. This time is my time. I arrived before your fifth year and stayed until my death, or murder I supposed, after which I was transported closer to my time, only one year before hand. I have had to wait until I wouldn't run into myself here before returning." There, that summed it up nicely.

There was a drawn out pause, and Harry decided to ask a question that had been plaguing him for some time. "How is it that Dumbledore was able to take over as headmaster anyway. I mean, he did throw a killing curse at me. Didn't he at least have to do a short stay in Azkaban or something?" Voldemort sneered.

"The old fool received a medal, actually. You might be please to know, you were elevated to becoming one of Grindelwald's most vicious lieutenants, and your death was celebrated. The paper sang Dumbledore's praises for weeks after your demise. I was thoroughly disgusted."

"I'll bet."

"Why are you here, Jasper?"

"I decided that I wanted to be here, with you, despite everything else."

"Everything else?" Voldemort asked pointedly.

Harry shook his head and looked towards the fire.

"This will do for now, there are a few things that I need to straighten out and then... we'll see. I had actually wanted to ask a favor of you though."

"I don't deal in favors, Cole." The man hissed.

"I'm sure this one was part of your plans anyway."

"Do go on, but don't expect anything of me."

"I want you to take the dementors from Azkaban this year."

"That would be at least two years ahead of schedule. What would you give me in return?" His wand twirled between his fingers artfully.

"Information."

"And what could you possibly have for me?"

"I have information on Potter." He stated softly, his peripheral vision catching the tenseness that had laid itself across Voldemort's shoulders.

"You know where he is?"

"I do."

"Tell me, and I shall see your _favor_ granted." Tom's voice had dropped the a menacing hiss.

"I'll not tell you so you can go off and kill him."

"Insolent-"

"Harry Potter no longer poses a threat to you." He hurried out before Voldemort was tempted to throw a curse. The yew wand lowered just slightly, and he could see Voldemort wanted him to continue. "The boy received help in escaping his muggle relative's home and losing all the charms placed on him to track his location. He had a creature inheritance that Dumbledore and his Order wished to keep suppressed, and so he fled. The one who helped him escape currently has him hidden away at a favored safe house. He does not wish to fight against you."

"And you know this, how?"

"I'm unable to share that. If you wish to pursue him at a later date, then fine."

"I shall need to retrieve the prophecy and know its full contents before I know how to deal with the boy."

"Prophecy?" Harry asked. What prophecy?

"A prophecy concerning myself and the boy. It is of no consequence to you." Voldemort waved him off. Harry clenched his teeth. The hell it wasn't! But he couldn't really come out and say that, could he. "Do you, perchance, have a vested interest in the boy's well being?"

"Not the boy, per se, as much as the outcome of this war you are involved in. I want you to win, you can't do that if Potter is working against you."

"Are you implying-"

"No, but even you just said that there was a prophecy. What if it says that whoever has the Potter boy wins the war?"

"It doesn't."

"You don't know that."

"I know enough to know that it doesn't." He said with narrowed eyes. Harry made a placating gesture.

"Fine, fine."

Harry examined the man who sat across from him more closely now. With business out of the way he was free to do what he pleased. For now at any rate. His lips curved into a sly smirk and he leered over the coffee table at the dark wizard. He stretched his dark out with intent, hoping to coax the wizard along the path he desired. He felt it brush against Voldemort's magic, and he could feel the excited response it had. The dark lord peered back at him with the faintest frown and, with a push, shoved Harry's magic away from him.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I do not trust you." That... actually hurt a little.

"You trusted me before." Harry stated plainly.

"I was a fool boy then with no realization of how dangerous you truly were, but perhaps, when you fill in those details I desire to know, we shall be as we once were."

Harry gave a slightly depressed sigh, though really he should have expected any thing different. This_ was_ the dark lord. Tom hadn't trusted well back when he was younger. What exactly made him think that it was going to get better over the years. Voldemort had set the bar, conditions on their continued intimacy, and Harry was going to meet them. Hopefully though, he wouldn't die in the process of filling them, especially considering his identity. Harry took to his feet and gave a curt nod.

"I'll see you soon." And then he was gone.

~..~

Gringotts was exactly the same as it had been. In fact, he was pretty sure that nothing other than the multitude of tunnels that ran beneath it had been changed. Harry had walked in intent on first going to his vault and then inquiring about who he was to speak to, as introductions hadn't been made the last time he'd spoken to any of the goblins. So it was a surprise when he was immediately swept away and told to follow as one of the little creatures lead him through twisting back halls and towards a door with the only comment being that he was 'expected.' He stepped into the room and was gestured to take a seat.

"We have been expecting you for some time, Mr. Potter."

"Cole, please." He said politely.

"As you will then." The goblin nodded. "Now, for the matter that needs to be discussed. My name is Splitax, I was the one who handled your mother's assets along with being the holder of some of the more... classified information regarding her heritage." He slid a tome across. It was thick with an old crimson cover and a single snake, an occamy, embossed on the front of it. Despite its age, which was clearly obvious, it was in good condition.

"What is this exactly?" He didn't know for sure, but he had a _very _good guess.

"This is the book of Anguis, your and your mother's line. It contains the history, origin, and known abilities that your line had ever possessed over the many years. This is also the only book in existence which mentions the lost clans by their names, though it goes no further than that." Harry caressed the cover with great care, tracing the snake with a gentle hand. He slid the book towards him and into his lap. Splitax spoke up. "Due to the nature of its content, I can't allow it to leave the bank though it can be put into your vault. You may take as long as you like to read it, just call when you are ready to leave an some one will escort you out, no matter the time." The goblin stood and left, leaving Harry by himself, staring down at the book.

~..~

Albus was frustrated and quite a bit worried. There had been no word from Harry all these days. It was if the boy had dropped off the face of the world. No one and nothing could reach him, not even Fawkes could divine the boy's location and bring him back. If it weren't for his total belief in the prophecy, he would have suspected that Harry was dead and gone. Not a pleasing thought considering the fact that Voldemort was now back and slowly regaining his previous strength. The wards at Privet Dr. were fracturing, and the compulsions placed on Harry, not in a dark way mind you, would be beginning to fade without a source to back them up and reestablish their hold. He'd felt guilty about placing them, but he couldn't stop himself. There were just to many similarities between Tom and Harry. Far more than he thought possible considering the vastly different circumstances they experienced through life and the perspective they held on the world in general.

But even so, Dumbledore couldn't deny the fear he felt every time he watched Harry. The boy's ability to come out on top in almost every situation, his surprising amount of intelligence in things magical despite his avoidance in studying, and the sheer power he held in his hands. He couldn't have allowed him to fall to the way side just because of a dark heritage that was courtesy of his mother, and though he felt guilty in attempting to deny the boy part of his heritage, it was for the better of all those involved if Harry wasn't even aware of such a potential. But... there was this feeling he held in the deepest part of his mind. He looked over at his phoenix companion who crooned softly to him.

"Fawkes, my dear friend, I can't help but feel as if I had committed a grievous error in judgment." The phoenix gave a trill that could be taken for a sound of agreement. He was about to speak again when the wards he had along the passage to his office alerted him to an expected presence. "Come in, Severus."

The dark potions professor strode in with an even measured gait, his eyes automatically scanning the office as he came to a stop several paces in front of the Headmaster's overly large desk. His usual sneer was replaced by a frown, an easy indicator that something unexpected had happened while in the company of the dark lord and his followers. Albus steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, a slightly grim look placing itself on his face.

"I hadn't expected you to report until the morrow. What has happened?" Dumbledore's thoughts would have turned to the worst case scenario, in which Voldemort had managed to locate Harry, if it wasn't for the fact that Severus seemed more unnerved than angry.

"The Dark Lord had a... friend interrupt his meeting." The professor stated blandly. Albus blinked a few times.

"Interrupt his meeting?"

"Indeed."

"Friend?"

"One would assume so as he didn't so much as get cursed for just walking in." Now it was Dumbledore's turn to frown. Tom didn't have friends. The other was emotionally incapable of forming the bonds necessary to become friends with any one.

"What did they say to each other?"

"I am unaware. This man is a parselmouth." Dumbledore frowned even harder, forming lines across his face that made him appear closer to his true age. Another parselmouth, one entirely unknown, and apparently working with Voldemort. He didn't like this. Not one bit. He wasn't looking forward to having this unfamiliar quantity on the field when his own pieces were missing.

"Can you describe him?"

"Pale, seemingly slender build, dark hair. I'm afraid that I don't have much. He was heavily cloaked when he appeared in the room and I believe that only the LeStrange's were able to get a good look at his face."

"Anything else?"

"He has a unique control of his magic."

"Meaning."

"He was able to force the magic to the surface of his body and extend it outward. It seemed much like aura reading but far more... invasive, personal."

"That is a very unusual talent." He paused. "How would you estimate his strength?"

"Definitely upper leveled, though I could say accurately as he performed no spells, but his magic is dark, more so than any of the others there besides the Dark Lord himself."

"This is most troubling news. I thank you for coming to me with this right away."

"I'll be returning to my rooms then."

"Goodnight, my boy." Snape disappeared through the door, closing it softly behind him. Albus leaned back in his chair, his expression now thoughtful but weary. "I fear what this new player will bring." He said quietly, earning a comforting note from Fawkes.

~~..~~..~~

_I write this now in the hope that it would never become necessary, that its purpose would never need to be filled. But the seers have told me of the fall of the great clans, of the Covens Thirteen. The battle that holds us apart now will divide our number and some names will be lost to magic and time. So I leave this book to my people, the line of Anguis, and most importantly, my Heir. Your coming has been told of, and though I shall not live to see it, I know you will succeed in bringing us to our former glory once again._

_Moon_

_Sun_

_Shadows_

_Flight_

_Flame_

_Serpent_

_Blood_

_Beast_

_Earth_

_Hawk_

_Soul_

_Mind_

_Light_

_These are the clans, the coven, know them and know what you must search for when looking once more to revive them. Know that you alone have the strength to lead them and the power to save our shared race from the ruin that would have followed had you not accepted your path. I have faith in you and yours. Within this book are the secrets of Vampire kind, and of our clan. Our history and the history of the others are written here, but this information isn't to go beyond your lips. You and those of the royal line shall be the only ones to know this truth. Lead them well, Lord Anguis._

_~ 2nd Lord of Anguis_

_Abel Cross_

~~....~~

Harry skimmed quickly through the book, the first page setting him on edge for some unknown reason. It was almost as if he could sense the urgency it was written with, and he could almost picture a quillo frantically scribbling across the page even though the markings before him were made with no such tool. It was, in fact, blood, not ink, on the sheets of tanned hide that made up pages, and he'd seen vampire writings often enough while with Jean-Claude and the others to know that it was written with a claw, dragging across the page as blood dripped down the sharp nail. It was painful- writing like this, as the wound to let blood flow freely healed quickly and had to be remade- but the magics that were inherent in vampire blood kept it from deteriorating or fading, allowing the writings to last the ages.

His clan, the Anguis Clan, was unique in a very unpredictable way. They had the 'serpent's tongue' an old phrase for parseltongue, acess to some of the baser snake magics that had nothing to do with speaking a spell, empathy of snakes and the occasional dragon, and a gift of creating poisons. All of which were great, but it was a skill listed as only pertaining to the royal bloodline which answered his more important question: his birth.

_The Royal Line has always been revered, though the reason why had been kept hidden since the beginning of our powers. We cannot sway the elements with little more than a gesture or sprout wings to take to the sky, but our gift is far more than any other and, if given the chance, it would be stolen from us in a moment. The Royalty of Clan Anguis is the only line whose woman, turned or otherwise, can give full, natural birth to a living child that holds the potential of the vampire curse within them. Our children are the only _born_ vampires with a choice as to life or un-life._

And there it was. His mother was a vampire with the ability to give birth. It was probably why no one suspected that she was a vampire despite the difference in magic that could likely be sensed around her. Harry slid the book closed slowly. He wasn't done. No where near in fact, but he couldn't spend his last few days delving into a book no matter how much he wanted the information. He still needed to get his school supplies, which he now knew the contents of as a bird had appeared midway through the seventh chapter, and he also needed to find something that would help dampen his natural vampire magic. He needed Dumbledore to believe he was still human. That was a must if he was going to succeed in his plans.

It seemed that as soon as the book touched the desk a goblin appeared to lead him back out through the winding halls and into the lobby. It was surprisingly crowded, or so he thought until he glanced at the clock and found that it was noon and he had read clear through the rest of yesterday, through the night, and all morning. Splitax was in the lobby and started towards him as soon as he had spotted him. Harry spoke first when they met just off to the side of the room.

"If it wouldn't be a problem, I'd like to come back at a later date to finish the book."

"Of course."

"Do you know why it was left in goblin care instead of vampire?"

"For a while the vampires were holding a civil war and it was left in our hands to guard it. We were told to not release it from our hold ever as some of the information is quite sensitive." Harry nodded. That was easily understandable.

"Do you still craft items for wizards?"

"Not any longer, but we do for other magical races."

"Would vampires be included in that?" Splitax gave a fang filled smile.

"What do you want commisioned?"

"A ring that would supress my vampire aura." The goblin frowned.

"That's dangerous magic, if supressed to long it may become unsuable." Harry hmmed in thought.

"Perhaps supress isn't the right word. Maybe restrict would be better. I don't want any one to sense it unless I allow them."

"We can make something that draws it into the skin, but if some one were to touch you they would notice."

"Bare skin contact?"

"I'll see what can be done, but you'll be lucky to get that. When do you need it by?"

"Before September first or very early that morning." The goblin paused, as if working out the time frame for such a piece and then slowly nodded."

"It will be close, but I believe it would be manageable, provided you pay the rush fees."

"And I'd like to transfer all my holdings under a different name."

"Why?"

"Because Harry Potter isn't going to exist much longer if I can help it." Splitax nodded.

"All right then. Jasper Cole I assume?"

"No, Jasper Cole is recorded as dead." Harry then stopped, a new thought occuring to him. "Do you freeze a person's assets when the ministry takes them into custody?"

"Only for the period of the trial and then they are opened once more. It keep the ministry from taking the money, but the vaults that belonged to the convict no longer gain any interest."

"So if I were, hypothetically, to get arrested, all that would pretty much happen is that I no longer gain interest?"

"Hypothetically, yes, but the stipulations on you vault would all remain the same. Id doesn't restrict access to only you, it would simply perform as a normal vault."

"Who has access to my vault?"

"Vaults, Mr. Cole." Splitax corrected.

"As in more than one? How many are we talking?"

"Three in total, your trust, the main Potter vault, and the vault for storing artifacts of any sort."

"And who else has access to these?"

"You, your magical guardian, and anyone who happens to have your key." A brief snarl twisted Harry's lips.

"And how many withdrawals have there been?"

"Several I believe, all close to the same time of the year, the end of August, so we would assume that it was for school."

"Nothing from the other two?"

"I do believe that a handful of trinkets were taken from the artifact vault, none of which were rare or hard to come by, but they were linked directly to the Potter Heir."

"Would those being tracking and monitoring devices?"

"Indeed."

"Their useless now if I've rid myself of the charms, right?"

"Unless they're reapplied." Harry frowned. He wouldn't put it past the Headmaster to charm him again as soon as the opportunity presented itself. In fact, he was sure that was going to happen.

"Can I prevent that?"

"I can have another piece commissioned to prevent them from anchoring to you properly and alert you as to when they have taken."

"Does that mean I could remove them?"

"If you have the skill."

"And where would I find out how to do that?" The goblin gave that toothy grin again.

"For a small fee, we can sell you a book. Of course, if you are caught with it, we will deny all knowledge."

"All right. Now, about that transfer."

"It can be done today, I just need a name to put it under."

"Anguis." Splitax nodded.

"Will you be needing anything else?"

"Just a trip to my vault to gather some money."

"You commissioned pieces will be ready at five a.m. on September first, the funds and artifacts transfer will be completed by this evening, a new key will be ready to be picked up at any time after that. Due to your... nature, you may bring in your own vault guard if you desire."

"Vault guardian?"

"We use dragons in high priority vaults, some have special locking mechanisms and others have puzzles to solve."

"I'll see to it at a later date."

Splitaz nodded and gestured for another goblin to take Harry down to his vault to retrieve some gold for his purchases.

.

.

**Sept 1**

Harry sat back against the cushioned seat of the compartment. He was covered in a light black robe, something suitable for the heat that had invaded the area. A glamour masked the golden hue of his eyes, once more returning them to their killing curse green and the charm also supplied the scar that cut across his forehead. He twisted the rings on his fingers without thought as he stared out the window to the families all saying their goodbyes to each other. He used to be saddened by the fact that there never was a mother or father to see him off, but now, he just felt indifferent while looking at them. Parents no longer mattered to him, as he long since realized that parental figures were just not meant to be for him. There were footsteps approaching his door, two sets, and it was unusual because he'd taken the compartment furthest away from the front.

Hedwig, who had refused to be separated from him by being stuck in a cage and sent off to the other car with all the animals, gave a quiet hoot from her place. Harry clucked back softly and the owl went back to napping. She'd heard them approach too, he supposed. Two shadows fell over the frosted glass of the door, and Harry waited for them to open it, still internally debating on whether or not he was going to scare them off or not. The door slid open and two semi-familiar faces were looking back at him.

Both of the intruders had gone white, the red head starting to shake as he stumbled backwards with a faint cry of surprise. Hermione, it took some time for Harry to recall her name, didn't stumble back like the other had, but the gaping expression she sported was severely unattractive. Harry just watched them silently, contemplating if he should do something or just wait until they made the first move. He could recall that they had been friends, way back before his life had changed, but... it was like trying to remember a book you were read only a few times as a child, only the unimportant parts seemed to stick out.

"H-Harry?"

Harry gave a slight smirk. It was sure to be an interesting year.

~~~...~~~~...~~~

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers once again. I was surprised that I'd gotten so many reviews for this story honestly. It started as a kinda 'fluff' fic that I would just use to get rid of writer's block and now it's become my main story. Funny how things work.

Yes, Voldemort was cold and unresponsive, I think that is one of my larger peeves when it comes to time traveling stories. Harry pops up in Tom's life and they are automatically entrenched in amazing passion, it just doesn't work for me. But I hope to settle that up in two or three chapters, sorry to those who were expecting a love fest.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Secret**_

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_Got a secret  
Can you keep it?  
Swear this one you'll save  
Better lock it, in your pocket  
Taking this one to the grave_

_ ~ The Pierces, Secret_

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Harry raised an eyebrow as the girl stuttered out his name. She really was quite amusing, though that couldn't be said for her companion. He had braced himself against the wall, the furthest point he could be from Harry while still in line of sight and look like he might faint at any moment. Harry wasn't exactly sure why there was such a strong reaction to him appearing on the train. To them he hadn't been gone more than a few months; they were acting like he had died, been entombed, and suddenly risen from the dead. His train of thought suddenly paused. Well, he was a vampire, and was, therefore, _technically_ dead, but they didn't know that. He'd even taken the effort to look exactly the same as he had before he'd been turned.

"Why are you acting like you've seen a ghost?" It was a surprisingly hard fight to keep the amusement from his voice. Such entertaining children they were.

"But... you're... you're here!"

"Is there some place else I would be? I do need my education after all." That last might have been a bit of a lie. If it weren't for Dumbledore murdering him last time, he would have graduated. Spiteful old man.

"You've been gone since July!" Her voice was a near shriek.

"I always knew that you were the smart one." Harry said, nodding to himself, as if confirming some great unknown. Her face seemed to light scarlet for a moment before she ploughed on.

"Harry James Potter, where have you been?" She shouted the question and Harry could hear doors opening in the hall. He cocked his head to the side and stared at her until she folded her arms and started tapping her foot like an impatient mother. "Well?"

"You do realize that you have no authority or relation to me and, therefore, I'm not inclined to answer your question."

"Harry!" She sounded strangely scandalized by that. "I'm just worried for you."

"For me? Why? Any place was better than the Dursley's." Not entirely true, but they didn't know that. "I would have figured that you'd be happy that I was safe and well cared for over the summer."

"Don't you try to guilt me, Harry. I want to know where you've been." Her hands were now on her hips, and Harry supposed that, had he still been so young, he might have been cowed by the look she was giving him.

"Well, if you must know, I was kidnapped in the middle of the night. I woke in this wonderful manor home with great big windows and beautiful carpets. Oh, the paintings were lovely as well. Of course, the fact that there was a man standing over the bed I was on taking about how he was going to bite me scared me a little, I mean, the first thought that came to mind was 'oh god, pedophile', but that left pretty quickly. Then he was rambling on about potential but that I couldn't be turned -whatever that meant- and that I would just spend the rest of the summer with him since I couldn't be returned to my relatives home as the whole of the wizard world was freaking out." Harry's tone was entirely nonchalant and casual.

Several words flew out of Hermione's mouth as she sputtered in trying to come up with a reasonable reply to all the information she'd just received. Voldemort's name comes up a few times as she was caught between trying to scold him for not trying to contact some one and how dare he put so little value in his life. Harry could hear the people out in the hall now, starting to crowd closer to the door and try to find out what was going on. Harry kept silent through it all, unable to stop an eyebrow from raising as accusations of passive suicide were flung upon him. Finally, when it seemed she was out of breath and panting, he spoke.

"Done now? Good. I'm so glad that you were able to draw _only_ half the train to my door, I would have felt extremely uncomfortable had the conductor managed to be pulled away from the controls to find what all the shouting was about. Do note that your ranting made you sound a bit like a petulant child." She blushed again and was about to retort when Harry cut her off. "How about, if you have anything more to say, you step inside and throw up some silencing charms so as not to disturb the other students trip? I can assure you that the entertainment value of this... argument shall fall rapidly."

"I... we're not done here." She stated. "I'll be back shortly." She'd just turned around when Harry spoke up.

"Do send the Headmaster my greetings as well." Her steps faltered and she looked over her shoulder with wide eyes. He gave her a slight smirk that looked far more Slytherin than Gryffindor.

"Come on Ron, we have a meeting soon." She pulled the red head along after her. Their perfect badges catching the light from the window. The door closed and they quickly retreated down the hall to the front of the train.

It was some time later that he heard the perfects go on their rounds and, as Hermione and Ron had yet to appear, he assumed that they were the ones making those rounds. But when some one did finally approach the door, he hadn't been expecting the guest that had appeared. Draco Malfoy stood casually in the doorway with one hand remaining on the door and the other hanging loosely at his side. His faithful guards stood behind him, both looking towards the front of the train.

"Hello Malfoy, what can I do for you?" Though the blond's expression hadn't changed, Harry was sure that the question had taken him by surprised. "Sit down won't you." Harry gestured to the seat across from him. Draco hesitated just a moment before muttering for Crabbe and Goyle to watch the door as he closed it behind him and took a seat opposite his long time rival.

"What are you doing, Potter?"

"Let me be straight with you. I have plans this year with no intentions of mucking them up by dealing with whatever petty fights that would have been sure to happen between us this year. Surely you agree that the arguments are tiresome and childish and we both have better things to do with our time than going out for some ridiculous plots of revenge for perceived slights. So, in other words, I'd like to at least establish a truce with you and the Slytherins."

"And the terms of this truce?"

"No deliberate sabotage and avoidance of unnecessary confrontation."

"You think this to work with your pet Weasel and mudblood?" He asked with a raised brow.

"This is between you and I, not them."

"What happened to the golden trio?" Draco asked nastily.

"It hasn't been such since the end of last year." Harry answered and deliberately ignored Malfoy's tone. "So, can we call a truce?"

"I have no control over the other Slytherins." Harry gave him an incredulous look.

"You honestly expect me to believe that? I think that the only person that could _possibly_ outrank among the Slytherin students would be the Dark Lord's son, if he had one that is. We are both very aware of your father's position and power and what that means in the hierarchy."

"I don't know what your talking about." He lied smoothly.

"No?" Harry asked bemusedly. "You're at the top, the 'Prince of Slytherin' as they call you. Crabbe and Goyle are your guards, your court would likely consist of Parkinson, Nott, Davis, Greengrass, Bulstrode, and, unexpectedly, Warrington. Of course, most of the older students stay out of your way, self-preservation and all that, in fear of your father. So you see, your at the top of the food chain for as long as your father is in power. They will listen to what you say." Draco looked taken aback for just a moment before quickly regaining himself.

"And this truce doesn't extend beyond you?"

"No."

"I'll have an answer for you by the end of the feast, Potter." They both stood at the same time.

"Pleasure doing business with you Malfoy." Harry offered his hand. "Perhaps, in the future, it will be far more _lucrative_?" He asked with a lilt on the last word and watched comprehension dawn in those gray eyes. Malfoy looked down at the extended hand and then grasped it firmly. This Potter was different than the one he was used to dealing with, far more Slytherin. It wouldn't due to alienate such an offer before it was fully explored.

"Perhaps." He answered agreeably. Draco then turned and left the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle on his heels.

~..~

Draco strode through the corridor in a casual gait, easily ignoring the two directly behind him and taking up the hall space. When his father had told him to keep an eye on the Potter boy if he appeared, that the lord wanted to know if the information of Potter's neutrality was true, Draco could honestly say that he almost scoffed at him. The first thought in mind was that the 'golden boy' would never step away from those Weasley's or his mudblood, but lo and behold, it _was _true. Potter had declared truce for himself alone and seemed to firmly plant himself amongst the graying area of the wizarding population though he'd said little to indicate such.

He had to admit, if only to the confines of his mind, that this new Potter... this one set him on edge. Always before his rival had been predictable with mostly Gryffindor reactions. He was quick to anger when taking up for his friends or those he believed in, had a hero complex, and was straightforward in what he did. There was no subterfuge with Potter, as there never had been in the family line, but this one, this one was different. Suddenly it seemed as if the scales had shifted and there would be a whole new animal wandering around that was playing under the guise of the boy-who-lived. He stepped into his compartment to find, in Harry's words, Court waiting for him. He stepped inside and Crabbe and Goyle closed the door behind him, taking up guard positions just outside.

"Potter is on the train." He said and paused for a moment as he met each of their gazes. "He's offered a truce. No sabotage or confrontation."

"Does he think to save his little lions?" Pansy asked with a sneer.

"That's what is so interesting, it includes only himself and the whole of Slytherin house." They all looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

"That is very self-serving." Theodore finally stated. "So, was it true? Is he declaring neutral?"

"It seemed so, though I can't be sure just yet." Draco took a seat, one closest to the window. "Has anyone noticed Potter paying any undue attention to the house?"

"No." Blaise answered with a shake of his head. "He's always gone out of his way to ignore us if possible. Has something happened?"

"He knows that we run on a hierarchy and that all of you, and Warrington, are among the court. I must say, it was a little disturbing to find out that one so oblivious had noticed so much." Draco noticed that the others were disturbed as well. They always were careful around each other, never meeting up together unless it was in the commons. That was another reason why it was so discomfiting. Greengrass and Davis had never been seen interacting with their group, and neither had Warrington outside of quidditch.

"We need to keep watch, find out where he's getting his information." Daphne said softly, pushing back some hair that had fallen into her face. "It's dangerous if he's been that observant and we missed it or if there is a spy feeding him the information."

"Blaise, I'll need you to be on the look out for any unusual behavior among the house. The rest of you, keep an ear out for any rumors on him. If he approaches, don't immediately deny him, find out his intentions first."

"Are you expecting something?" Pansy asked.

"He mentioned possible future arrangements that could become lucrative." They all nodded and settled back to discuss their plans for the year.

~..~

Hermione watched as the tawny colored owl launched itself out the window and flew ahead to the school. It wasn't often that the owl from the train had to be used to send a message, as if was mostly emergencies that caused it to be sent, but Dumbledore had written and informed her that I she had come across Harry, to write a note immediately. The train went around a long curve causing her to lose sight of the owl and she slowly turned back to Ron. The second youngest Weasley was still pale, but he looked much better than he had before.

"You okay, Ron?"

"I - was that really him?" Ron's voice sounded so anguished.

"What are you talking about Ron?"

"There's something different about him. Don't tell me you missed it! Just... he's so entirely opposite of when we saw him last time. How could it be him?"

"Don't be foolish, of course it is him. Who else would it be? Now come one, we have a perfects meeting and then we can go back and find out why exactly Harry didn't try to contact us or anything."

Ron nodded and allowed her to drag him away and to the compartment of the train where all the perfects would meet to go over the rules and any changes that had been implemented between this year and the last. Both listened quietly as they were told of the duties they would have, though their minds often wandered to an entirely different topic. The meeting seemed to drag on with their hurry to return, and the fact that they were the ones to get the first series of rounds didn't help the feeling much. They hadn't even run into Malfoy aside from the meeting itself, which was unusual to say the least, but both shrugged it off and head to their friends compartment at the end of the train. Hermione gripped the handle to pull the door open but it wouldn't budge.

"He locked it." Her voice coated in disbelief. "Why would he lock it?"

"Maybe he was trying to keep the ferret out." Ron shrugged before pulling out his wand. "_Alohamora_." There was the sound of the door's lock clicking as it tumbled into an unlocked position but the door itself still wouldn't move.

"He has charms on it?" Hermione asked.

"I guess he really doesn't want Malfoy to bother him." Ron spoke as he knocked, none to gently, on the door. There wasn't an answer.

"Or maybe he just didn't want us there." She said despondently. It hurt that Harry would keep them out like that. They'd been friends for four years, what had happened over the summer to make him change so much. A sudden fierce look of determination crossed her features. What ever it was, she wouldn't stand for it. Harry was her friend and it was going to say that way.

"I-We-"

"Come on, let's go to our compartment." She pulled him along with a solemn look on her face.

~..~

To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. That was Newton's third law of motion. It was unfortunate that this law applied to everything and not just motion. That was why it caught him so off guard, the silence that is. It was so quiet it was damn near deafening and leaving a faint buzzing in his ears. He probably should have taken the wiser course when getting off the train, which was: be last, be unseen. So, they were quiet when stepped in to the carriage, they were quiet when he stepped off, but he was thankful that the whispered started to pick up by the time he sat down. He wasn't sure if he could have dealt with a silence in a hall so large.

There were two sets of piercing eyes on him in the great hall and a whole many more that were far more irritating. This was more attention than he'd gotten in fourth year for that tournament. He sat down, folding his robes beneath him in an elegant gesture before turning to look up at the head table. Dumbledore was frowning at him, making his face crease with wrinkles as his eyes held a certain amount of anger, though Harry wasn't sure who that was directed at. Snape's gaze, on the other hand, was unnervingly calculating, as if something unexpected had taken place and he planned to dissect every piece.

Harry felt dirty just by being given that look. It was invasive in a way that one wouldn't expect. Like it touched some... secret. Harry gave pause and started to scrutinize the professor. There had always been rumors of course, ever since he was a first year, that Snape was a vampire, but the fact that he could walk in the sun was an obvious show that he wasn't. Then, as Harry had discovered, there was a clan that_ could_ endure the sun's rays. There was just something there, not necessarily unnatural, but different from those around him. He wasn't a turned vampire, couldn't be, as Harry would have realized that as soon as sitting. Well, unless Snape had invested in goblin baubles that was, but Harry doubted it. So, perhaps he had the potential for it like Harry did? There could be a vampire father in the Snape tree somewhere. Yes, maybe that was it.

He was stirred from his musings as the students finished settling around him and the little first years were lead in. He couldn't stop the wan smile from taking to his face. They were so small, so fragile, like a strong wind would blow them over. He watched them fight to not look about the great hall with awe and amazement, trying to seem mature despite their age. He didn't hear the names as they were called, just focused on their nervous expressions that were plain to see. It all seemed so... human. He wouldn't claim to miss it, he didn't, but it was nice to reminisce about it. As a vampire, emotion had been so much duller, aside from interactions with Tom, that was. Those were _very_ vibrant.

After the new students were all sorted Dumbledore stood and reminded them of the forbidden forest being off limits and to introduce the new defense professor, Dolores Umbridge. She looked like a toad of a woman, squat and broad, and the pink did very little for her looks. Umbridge quickly took over the welcoming speech, declaring that, while previous years had been fraught with poor teachers this years was going to be different and the ministry was going to be taking a hand directly in the functioning of the school. Harry didn't like the sound of that, nor did he like that look she gave him, but he wasn't worried over much. A ministry pigeon would have no effect on his goals or plans, and if she became to much of an irritant, well... they hadn't had a defense professor yet who survived the year. She would just be another statistic.

The feast progressed as usual, noise and the excitement to be back heavy in the air. Harry was half expecting the approach of a professor or a perfect to inform him that the headmaster wished to see him, so it was a surprise when that didn't happen. He didn't touch his food save to move in artfully around the plate so that it looked as if it were being eaten. There wasn't much taste for actual food any longer, just the occasional glass of whatever he was in the mood for. He'd noticed it in that last year with Tom, that his stomach was starting to rebel against solid foods, and it didn't accept any at all within the year he was living with Jean-Claude and the others. It bewildered him even further that he had to take very little blood to make up for the nutrition. It had confused the other vampires as well, though Lucien theorized that perhaps it was because he was a wizard and the magic he held from that could extend the need to feed to non-existent. But as there were no negative side effects to this, Harry had brushed it aside. When or if it became a problem, then he would deal with it. He stepped into the dorm room just in time to catch the end of a conversation.

"- and then she said she didn't me want be in school being influenced by him."

"Influence by whom?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side in a manner he'd gotten from Lucien.

Seamus, the one who had been speaking, turned slightly red as having been caught. Harry knew who they were talking about of course. Apparently claiming that Voldemort had returned made people believe the rubbish in the papers. He was mad as a hatter, delusional, attention seeking, and a list of other things according to sever reporters, the most known being Rita Skeeter. He didn't like her, but he had to admit that she knew how to sell papers.

"I -er-"

"Hmm... I wonder how many others believe that rag?" Harry asked, his eyes questing over the room.

"My gran says it's worthless, that she always believed that you-know-who wasn't really gone, and that if Dumbledore says he's back, then he's back." Harry nodded at the show of support from Neville. It was comforting to know that one had allies, no matter how young they may be.

"Isn't it kind of sad that you believe a reporter who has only really met me once than the person who you've been sharing a dorm room with the last four years. Perhaps, if your so uncomfortable with the idea," Harry suggested, easily reading Seamus's body language, "you should go to McGonagall and get a room change." His voice was mild, but the way he was staring down Seamus wasn't. It was one thing to not know him and believe the heaping piles of crap that didn't pass for more than rumor, it was another thing for a person he'd occasionally conversed with to believe it. He couldn't say he was angry, he wasn't, but it did annoy him. Though, he supposed, wizards were illogical on the best of days.

"I-"

"Why don't you go lay down Seamus? Plenty of rest should keep the insanity away." Harry's mouth turned up in to a parody of a smile. He watched coldly as the other Gryffindor slipped into bed.

"That was a little scary, Harry." Neville commented softly as he pulled the covers down.

"Ah, but if I'm barking, then I might as well have fun." Longbottom nodded though he didn't understand exactly what it was that Harry meant to do.

~..~

Defense against the dark arts. What a complete joke, Harry thought cynically. The classes had yet to teach him anything, and it looked to be the same this year if the teacher and the class aims were anything to go by. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic, learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can be legally used, and placing the use of defensive magic in context for practical use. He could see where this was going. There would be no practice, no use of spells within the confines of this classroom. The ministry official was going to be about theory. They were crippling a generation of children just to quell the rumors. Fools, the lot of them, for thinking that to not teach defensive spells would make the problem disappear.

Harry kept his mouth carefully shut as Hermione's question quickly turned into a inquisition. The students were in a fury now that they realized that there would be no spell work. Accusations of failing the practical portions of the O.W.L.s were easily brushed aside along with the fact that they may need to use such spells in the real world. He was half tempted to bring up the fact that aurors often learned the majority of their spells from the defense classes that were taken as a student, but he kept himself. Well, he had until a foolish student brought up Harry's claims. The vampire winced. Here he was, trying to lay low, and all it takes is a fifth year to screw up that plan.

"Well, why don't we ask Mr. Potter?" Her face conveyed her distaste at the idea.

"I'm sorry Professor Umbridge, but what was the question?"

"A student has queried about a certain wizard's return and that we should know the spells practically for that sake if nothing else." Her intentions, what she wanted, weren't hidden, and he probably still could have been a human and known what she was trying to do.

"Professor, I'm confused, even if that wizard had returned, what does it have to do with the practical portions of the class? I believe that you are absolutely correct in saying that going over the theory in such depth, as you're sure to do, will be enough."

"Are you denying your claims now?" Umbridge looked a little put out that the boy hadn't reacted as she wanted, but even him admitting he was false before was better than nothing.

"No, no, I didn't say that Professor. I mean, _anything_ could have happened then, spells could have been cast on me or what have you, and I'm sure that if he _did_ come back, then we'll know soon enough, right Professor?" Her face took on a pinched look and she glared down at him through narrowed eyes. Harry passed her an innocent look. He refused to play her game and let himself wander into what ever pitfall she'd hidden. He doubted that he would escape her forever, but this once, he'd gotten away.

"Take out your books and turn to page ten." She turned away abruptly, looking to the rest of the class. Harry gave a satisfied smile.

~..~

Harry caught an envelope out of the air as a black owl dropped it before him. Cassandra, for that's who's seal it was, was sending him an update. For all their hate of wizard communications, owls in particular, they sure knew some of the better breeds to get. The owl was gone before he even thought to feed it some of the breakfast on his plate. He could feel the eyes on him as he broke the red was seal that held the parchment closed. There was little fear in opening it in the great hall. Cassandra had always taken measures, even when among their own, to encode messages of any sort. It was why she was the one sending mail to him and not, say, Brutus. He pulled out four sheet of paper, all of which were neatly written in her feminine loops. It was simply a status report.

There had been no word from any of those belonging to the Umbra line, and Sang was still debating on a position. The others, Luna, Ignis, Fuga, and Sol, along with those belonging to the turned Anguis were gathering together and preparing their armaments. There still wasn't any word on the Umbra Clan Head's location, and it was likely that 'The Dragon' was waiting to see if his plan would succeed before allowing himself to be found. Harry could understand the position. If he failed, then he was not worthy to lean the secrets of the line he'd accidentally come into.

"Who's that from?" Hermione asked, leaning over the table and trying to get a better look at the signature.

"An associate." He answered, pulling out his wand and burning up the page with a quick spell. Now there was no evidence.

She and Ron both frowned at him, but spoke no further. Harry had been acting suspiciously since the train ride. He'd been disappearing at odd hours of the night and sometimes during the day, but they could never catch him at it. They were pretty sure he was meeting with someone, and if they weren't so absolute on his anti-dark nature, they would have guessed that those people were death eaters. So, recently, they had devised a plan to catch him while he was comming back. There would be no other choice but to tell the truth then.

Harry, for his part, was aware that they knew he was sneaking out at night, and he was also aware of their plans to catch him in the act. But he also knew that they had gotten all their reason's as to 'why' wrong. He'd been going off to the room of requirement. Sleep wasn't something that he really needed any longer and, he figured, why waste time if you don't have to. He'd been going through the massive piles of things that had accumulated in the last fifty years since he'd been in there. Suffice to say, there was a lot.

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**Oct**

He'd been clever, sneaky, evasive, and downright Slytherin, much to Ron's revulsion. It had saved him for a month, but he'd been caught out, two minutes after curfew, returning to the common room. Umbridge had been waiting for him. He damn near hissed at her when she assigned him a detention with a smile. By the glee in her eyes, he guessed that she had something planned. Two students walked by behind him. Umbridge ignored them and continued to stare him down. It would have been useless to comment on it.

"Detention will be tomorrow and 8 o'clock."

"Of course Professor." He nodded his head politely and then continued on.

The night turned into morning, breakfast passed, then classes, and lunch, and dinner, and finally it was time for him to discover what possible plot the woman had concocted to deal with him. He suspected that it would be sadistic it its own way, much like Snape and his cauldron scrubbing. He knocked at her door at exactly 8 o'clock and was issued a command to enter. She looked perfectly smug when he walked in, a mocking smile on her face. She gestured for him to sit down at the single student desk that resided in her office. He took a seat and patiently waited for instruction.

"You'll be doing lines." She stated, but stopped him when he went to remove a quill and ink from his bag. "You won't be needing those, you'll be using one of mine." Her voice was sickly sweet as she pulled a quill from the surface of the desk.

Harry immediately stiffened. He recognized it. Unusually thin, black, and a sharp tip that would never dull with use. Dark magic danced along his senses and he immediately stood, his eyes locked on the quill. Where in that devil had she gotten one? His eyes snapped up to hers and she looked slightly surprised. Umbridge set the tool on the desk and waited for him to once more take a seat. When he failed to do so, she grew a bit miffed.

"Mr. Potter, do sit down, or would you like another detention?"

"Where did you get that?" His voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

"Just something I had, now, begin writing your lines."

"Those are banned from use."

"From public use." She corrected. "And as you can see, this is not public."

"I'd like to know where you got the authorization to use this on students."

"I suppose I shall humor you." She said though she did frown at him. "The minister himself authorized it, and I have a signed document as well. Now sit down and begin."

He moved slowly, his mind racing. He couldn't use a blood quill. His blood, well, it wasn't exactly normal anymore, was it? And, by her obvious distaste for 'half-breeds' as she called them, he doubted that he would be in school for much longer beyond finding out his secret. Damn. What was he going to do? He picked up the feather, placing it against the paper and looked at her once more. That self-satisfied smug look was back, and as he met her eyes once again, an idea struck him. He launched his magic at hers, immediately ensnaring it and bending it to his will. This likely wouldn't work with strong willed people, but she wasn't strong so it was no matter. Her eyes glazed over and she suddenly looked as if she were daydreaming.

"Harry Potter has written his lines, but the writing so illegible that you've decided to burn the pages. You have accomplished what you have set out to do and he will no longer be a problem." He wanted to implant a thought to not use a blood quill again, but with the way she took joy in using it, that would be impossible. "You will allow yourself to bask in your accomplishment until it is time for you to go to bed. You won't question what time you dismissed Potter and you won't realize how much time has passed since you've done anything." He smiled as he left her office.

~..~

_**Dementors Flee; Death Eaters Escape**_

_Early yesterday morning not long after two a.m. an alarm was sounded in the department of magical law enforcement. The alarm was for the notification of any possible problems on the isle of Azkaban which was most commonly used with dementor related illnesses that occasionally occurred among the guard. Auror forces, along with the head of the department, went there in mass and converged on the island not long after the alarm. Upon arriving on the island it was noted that nothing seemed amiss except for the fact that there were no aurors, nor dementors, at the usual point for docking._

_The prison itself sustained minimal damage, most of which was done to the front gate in the effort used to force the doors open. The guard station was completely destroyed and the bodies of two aurors were found inside, severely mutilated. The reinforcements proceeded inside to discover that many of the lower class prisoners, thieves and the like, were completely left alone and were unable to provide any relevant information beyond the fact that the dementor guards had left not long before the attack had occurred. _

_It was quickly established that all the cell block aurors had been murdered or currently are missing. The LeStrange brothers, Rudolphus and Rabastan, along with Bellatrix LeStrange most well known for there conviction in the Longbottom case, were also discovered missing at this time. Several others who had also been convicted of Death Eater activities are also missing and all are presumed alive. It is unknown who staged this attack on the prison or who helped in the freeing of the Death Eaters, but it is strongly suspected that mass murderer Sirius Black is to blame for this most recent catastrophe._

_The location of the dementors at this time is currently unknown, but the ministry is asking the public to be on the lookout for unusual cold spells that happen when in close proximity to one of the dark creatures. Contact the ministry if this situation occurs. Any information passed along is surely to be appreciated. If happening across one of the escaped convicts, please move to a safe location before contacting the ministry. Do not attempt to engage these individuals as they will likely be armed and dangerous._

Harry folded the daily prophet and placed it underneath his plate before continuing on with skillfully moving his breakfast around the plate. He only vaguely listened to the panicked twittering of the students. Tom had held up his part of the bargain, and Harry had to admit that he felt honest surprise. It wasn't often that a dark lord kept his word so easily. He hadn't even made him swear and oath or anything. He would have to send a time frame to the 'generals' soon. He would meet them on the way to the island and then everything should go according to plan. Well, he hoped so at any rate. His luck had an amazing ability to screw something seven ways to Sunday.

"Harry?" Ah, Hermione again. He turned to look at her.

"Yes?"

"What do you think?" He quickly noticed that the students immediately surrounding him had stopped tossing out their own theories at each other to listen to what he had to say.

"That's kind of a pointless question, isn't it? They," He gestured around him. "All think that I've gone completely mad and will only use my speculation as ammunition." He gave several a cold look before spitting out, "Pathetic." Harry frowned, but it was mostly at himself. He had better control than this, so why was he losing his temper so quickly?

"Really mate, don't you think your being just a little over the top?" Harry pressed his lips into a tightly line and drummed his fingers on the table top in a rhythmic beat.

"Over the top am I? I suppose I could agree that I'm getting a little over angry, but in no way have I become unnecessarily dramatic. In fact I have to say that I'm dealing with the situation extraordinarily well, after all, no one has ended up cursed yet." He stood from the table abruptly. "This conversation is tiresome." He stood and left without looking back. He needed to solve the problem of his short temper soon, before it sparked any more trouble.

~..~

He was being followed, and he hated being followed. His tails weren't that clever, he knew who they were, but the least they could do would be to put some effort into not letting him know they were there. The might as well be waving about a banner proclaiming their position for all the good it did them. He wondered, just for a moment, why he'd always thought they were could at sneaking about the school. Harry frowned just a little as he turned another corner and looked quickly at the walls. Perhaps they'd gotten a little outside help? Not much, as it would be to suspicious if the way was completely clear all the time, but just a slight change in the teacher or perfect rounds would have cleared paths for them easily. But, he continued on, if he accepted that, then that meant he had to accept all the other possible implications of the headmaster's interference which meant that Dumbledore was just as 'dark' as Voldemort - if not in a different way.

_That_ particular line of reasoning sent unease coursing through him. It wasn't that the headmaster had used, and planned to continue, using him. No, that was expected, and anyone would have done the same. It left him uneasy because, if the headmaster was willing to do that to a child -no matter his excuses- what else was he capable of? Some say that the worst that could happen is death, Harry was in the minority that knew far better. He'd seen the truth of that fact far better than many of the people alive today could possible comprehend. For Dumbledore would never kill him, not by his own hand at any rate, but he would sentence him to a fate far worse, all in the name of his own best interests or the greater good, which ever came first.

A muffled curse drew him back to the halls he was walking. Apparently Weasley had taken a tumble. Harry gave a annoyed sigh. He really didn't have time for this. He needed to find Malfoy and convince him that it was in his best interests to post a letter for him before curfew, otherwise the Gryffindor's -or really, his two stalkers- would have another fit. His hands twitched when the thought of how easy it would be to knock out his followers came to him. He would have to be careful of course, humans were fragile things and bashing them over the head could easily fracture the skull and cause a brain hemorrhage. He gave another sigh as he pushed the thoughts away. It wouldn't due to tempt himself to far, otherwise he very well may do it. There was a flash of blond hair in the light.

"Malfoy!" He called out and heard the impact of a body hitting the floor behind him along with several expletives.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy sneered at him as he turned.

"I've need of a favor."

"And what makes you think that I'll be doing you any favors?"

"My reasons can't just be bandied about in the hall. Surely you have a more secure location?" The blond paused a moment as if debating and then nodded.

"Alright then, follow me."

It didn't take long to lose Ron and Hermione in the maze that made up the majority of the dungeons. A series of quick turns had them confused and making their way back to the surface levels of the school where they wouldn't get lost or possibly attacked. Harry knew where they were headed, the Slytherin commons, but he wasn't sure why Malfoy was willing to take him to the snake pit. Lions tended to go missing when they knowingly wandered in, save for that single time in second year when he and Ron were polyjuiced. The turned around another corner, finally came to the entrance, and, with the password, walked inside. The room fell eerily silent as they saw who entered with their leader, and Harry, figuring that it would be as good as time as any to throw them just a little off balance gave a cheerful smile and wave. They both took seats on the couches that sat in front of the fire place, opposite each other.

"This favor of yours?" Draco asked as he slouched elegantly in the green cushions of the couch. Harry pulled the envelope from inside his sleeve and set it on the coffee table.

"I need this sent out by some one who isn't a friend of mine or me."

"What is it?" Mercury eyes looked over the enchanted mail.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"What do I get in return for doing this?"

"What do you want?" There was a sly smile on Draco's face.

"The Gryffindor password."

"I don't think so." Harry shook his head. "Name something that I might consider giving you." The Slytherin frowned but appeared to pause in thought for a moment.

"There are... rumors going around. That you claim to be neutral."

"Was there a question in there, Malfoy?"

"I want to know if they are true."

"That's your price?" Draco gave a curt nod. "Well then, as of this moment I am neutral, and just to let you know, I'll never be light again." Harry threw in the last because he was sure of whom Draco was going to report to. Malfoy nodded and picked up the letter.

"Where to?"

"The letter has directional enchantments on it, it will get to where it needs to be."

"Fair enough." He said, tucking the envelope into his own sleeve. It would be sent out with his personal owl before he went to sleep. "If your business is concluded, then you should leave." He inclined his head towards the door.

"I have a question, if you don't mind answering." Draco looked at him and gave a small gesture to continue. "Which of the portraits in the school will spy specifically for the headmaster?"

There was a shuffle through out the room and several of the older years looked at each other. Harry suspected that they hadn't thought he was aware. Malfoy looked thoughtful once again, glanced around the commons and then appeared to decide on something.

"You tell me who this letter is going to, and I'll tell you."

"It's going to some allies of mine who are going to help me take back something that belongs to me." That was all he was going to say on the subject.

"Birds." Draco said. "All the portraits the report _only_ to the headmaster have birds in them." Harry nodded.

"Goodnight, Malfoy." He said as he turned and left the common room. Now he had a little to work with. While all the portraits watched, it was the ones with birds that he had to be careful of.

~~..~~..~~

A/N: Thanks again to all who reviewed, I'm still surprised that so many have liked the story so well, and that I've been able to keep myself on track enough that you all enjoy reading it. My next chapter may be delayed however, with the holidays quickly approaching there are things that need to be done, but I'll try to get chapter 9 and 10 out as soon as I can.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Allegiance**_

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_A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy._

_~ Guy Fawkes_

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He snarled, smashing his fist into the wall and shattering one of the heavy blocks. The magic of the room swirled and repaired it even as Harry turned to vent his anger on the objects that had appeared before him. Anger, _rage_, swirled inside him, a storm of violence that wouldn't be contained and left him with only one option. His magic followed, lashing out, twisting and striking out at the remains of the objects he tore apart and leaving them as nothing but dust. His glamour collapsed in on itself, the magic ripping it away.

How dare she?

_How dare she!_

It didn't matter if he'd been sneaking out most nights. He'd done it often enough before. It didn't matter if he was associating with Slytherins and Malfoy. Who he spoke to was none of their business! For Hermione to go gallivant off and tell McGonagall and for the professor to spell his own separate curfew on him and add more punishment was unacceptable. That he could remove the curfew spell wasn't the point. It was the fact that she had gone to a teacher because she didn't like his avoidance of her and Ron. And that _was_ what it was, and he could practically hear their minds screaming it.

He swung a chair down at a table, breaking both in halves. It was the only thing he could come up with to not wrap his hands around their little necks and wring the life out of them. And enjoying it all the while. He hissed as his claws shred a couch that had appeared before him. He picked up a broken table leg and launched it at the wall. The wood embedded itself in the stone before cracking and splintering. Harry, anger finally spent, dropped to his knees and breathed heavily. This wasn't him. This anger, rage, fury, whatever you wanted to call it, wasn't him. He'd been calm before, or at least far from quick to anger with all his experiences in his life, or death as the case may be.

So why now? What was happening, or had happened, to coil him so tightly that at barely a moments notice he snapped. If this didn't stop, and soon, his secret would be out. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't allow it to happen. He slipped back into a sitting position, legs folded beneath him. Now think, he murmured to himself. His anger hadn't become truly noticeable until about halfway through September. Before school had started there hadn't been any obvious emotional or stressful situations to cause such upheaval within him. So that narrowed down the time to the first of September to halfway through the month.

The stress of his return to the school wouldn't have caused it, Merlin knows that he'd dealt with far worse. He'd blown off his friends and been blown off by Dumbledore so it wouldn't be them. His rivalry with Draco was null and the Slytherins left him alone. The plans for Azkaban didn't worry him in the least, and he hadn't been harmed this year as of yet. Even his panic with Umbridge in her detention had been mild. He half wished he was still talking to Hermione because that girl could find the answer to just about everything. He looked to the ceiling and called for what he needed. Books appeared, stacked along the walls and in piles on the floor. It would take some doing, but eventually he would find out what had caused his problem.

~..~

Hermione stared at the spot Harry had been some time before. She didn't know how long he'd been gone exactly, just that her heart was only now slowing its frantic pace. Her chest still hurt though, and her body refused to move, frozen as if by a spell or some invisible force. She wanted to believe that that hadn't been Harry; that Harry couldn't possibly look at her like that no matter what she'd done. He'd always been understanding, and in the rare times he wasn't, Harry was submissive. It was the way he'd grown up and the way he was supposed to stay. This new Harry was the opposite in almost every way. He was confident, surprisingly un-volatile with a few exceptions, tolerant, and, most noticeably, no longer in desperate want of affection.

This new Harry scared her. He was intense and angry -_oh so angry_-, and she didn't know how to deal with him. Before a kind word or proof of friendship was enough to bring his temper to heel. Even abandonment of him could be cured with a vague apology, so the him of now, was negating all of her practical knowledge. She bet it had something to do with the summer and his 'kidnapping,' which she didn't fully believe mind you. Something had happened during those months between school years and if she could find out what, then everything would go back to normal. It had to.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice is soft. She'd forgotten that he'd been standing there. "You all right?"

"I'm... fine." She wasn't, not really, but it wasn't anything that wouldn't be sorted out soon enough.

"What- what did you say to set him off like that?" He was unnerved by the display earlier. Never had he seen Harry so furious. He'd looked like violence in motion, darkness, and death all wrapped into one neat little package.

"I-er... might have demanded that he tell me where he's been disappearing to and told McGonagall about it." She had the grace to blush under Ron's gaze.

"You didn't learn after the first time?" He was stunned. "He almost pushed you down the stairs!"

"Harry wouldn't hurt us." It was a fact and some thing she believed in.

"_Our_ Harry wouldn't hurt us, and I don't know where you've been, but he isn't our Harry." And here she'd taken him for an oblivious fool at times. "This Harry," Ron licked his lips. "This Harry isn't some one I want to mess with. You should just leave him alone."

"Ron! He's our friend!" Ron looked at the door that lead out of the common room.

"No. No he's not. Our friend is gone, and he is some one else entirely." Why couldn't she see that? He was supposed to be the dumb one when it came to things like this. She was willfully ignoring what was right in front of her. "Just let it go." He advised.

"I can't." And she wouldn't, not until there was undeniable proof that he was lost to them. "I refuse." She shook her head wildly. Ron sighed.

"Even if you won't believe me, at least quit antagonizing him. I don't want to see you get hurt, Hermione." His voice was soft, almost sad.

"I can't promise, but I'll try." She spoke just as softly as him.

~..~

Dumbledore, to say the least, was on edge. He had been observing Harry since he'd returned to the school, and he wasn't liking what he was seeing. His suspicions of Tom influencing Harry's mind seemed completely founded now, but the unfortunate part was that he couldn't possibly confront the boy. With Voldemort in his mind the chances were to high that he would go for a complete possession of Harry and attack him or go so far as to shatter the boy's mind while there.

He'd been getting frequent visits from Ron and Hermione as they grew increasingly more worried, though recently Ron had stopped coming. The teachers were the complete opposite however. They'd admitted that he had become a bit reclusive, but his scores were much improved and Harry was presently sitting within the top ten of all his courses. That was unacceptable. The boy couldn't be allowed to learn anything yet, at least nothing with some skill. Due to the piece of soul that resided within him, Harry had to die before Tom could be killed. And if the boy some how managed to survive death once more, well then, Albus would have access to quite a bit of political clout, wouldn't he?

He needed to provide a distraction, something to keep Harry away from studying, homework, and paying attention in classes. Before that job had fallen to Ron Weasley, but with his surprisingly easy and uncharacteristic acceptance of losing his friend, he just wasn't there any more. There had to be some one else that could provide a diversion, but he was loath to allow any female the part lest they woo Harry and he, in some naive action, delivers his money and power to her upon his death.

He popped a lemon drop in his mouth as he twirled a little silver bauble between his fingers. He'd never before been so limited in his actions with his favorite little chess piece. He was unable to move or actively direct the boy, and if he wasn't, then that meant that some one else could and would. After all, who wouldn't want the boy who lived in their back pocket? Perhaps it was the Malfoy child? Rumors of a truce had reached him along with the fact that Harry had been in the common room not so long ago. He still hadn't discovered what that had been about but he was sure that, in time, it would come to light just as these things often did.

Dumbledore sighed lightly and look towards his sleeping familiar. The fiery bird had been depressed as of recently, and he was worried for the creatures health as phoenixes weren't creatures that could deal with the spectrum of negative emotions well. If the bird didn't perk up, he suspected that a burning day was not far.

~..~

"Push over 'mione!" Ron hissed as he tried to lean around the corner as well.

"Hush! Do you want him to hear us?" She hissed back, not taking her eyes from her target.

"Where do you think he's goin'?" He asked her. She gave an irritated huff.

"If I knew _that_ we wouldn't be following him through the halls, now, would we?"

"Hey, don't take it out on me, you're the one that asked me to come." They both darted forward and ducked behind a suit of armor.

"If you recall, Ronald, I only asked if you knew where he was. I didn't ask you to follow me as I followed him."

"You know this is stalking right?"

"Oh, shut up." She whispered furiously, and that was quickly followed by a mumbled: "I didn't even know that you knew what stalking was."

They followed Harry down to the entrance of the dungeons where Draco Malfoy walked out with a package tucked beneath his arm. Harry stopped a short distance away, at least two meters, and waited.

"I will not be your messenger bird, Potter. Find another way to have your things delivered." The blond sneered at him. Harry smirked and took the package.

"Not even if I made it worth your while, Malfoy?" The comment wasn't meant to be suggestive, but the very vague implications made Ron sputter.

"I doubt you have anything to offer."

"Nothing that I could. Not right now at least. Soon though, as I'll need to send another letter."

"I just informed you that I refuse to play the part of owl. Are you deaf as well as dumb?"

"Then don't do it yourself." Harry shrugged. "I'm sure there are plenty of others willing to do it. Actually, I'd prefer that you hand it off to some one trust worthy and have them do it."

"Oh? And why is that?" He folded his arms and arched an eyebrow.

"You know how _reckless _some _birds_ can be if they aren't doing their own master's bidding." Draco shook his head and stared at the Gryffindor.

"What?"

"Just think about it for a moment."

There was a short pause and then, "You are sure of this?" He hadn't been aware that Potter had been followed by Gryffindors, though he should have half expected it.

"Most definitely."

"Any way around that particular problem?"

"Not any time soon." He sighed. "I tell you that it becomes very irritating." Malfoy gave him a flat look.

"Then just get rid of the damn birds."

"If only it were so easy."

"I'll pass your letter on, but the previous arrangement stays. You don't get something for nothing."

"I'm agreeable." Harry nodded. "It shouldn't be to long... what's today?"

"The tenth."

"I'll have it to you by the... thirteenth then. Shall I just show up?"

"That's fine. After dinner, I'll have some one waiting to let you in."

"See you then, Malfoy." They both went their separate ways. Ron and Hermione waited until both were long gone before stepping out of their hiding spot.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Me too."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" He asked incredulously.

"Nothing." She said again. "You were right before. I should just let this go because our Harry isn't ever coming back."

"We should head back now."

"Yeah." And they both turned and headed back toward the tower.

~..~

Harry was just a little disturbed by what had been delivered to him. Snape, a death eater and one of Voldemort's loyal men, may not be so loyal after all. He held in his hand court transcripts of a session in which Dumbledore vouched for the potions professor claiming that he was a spy for the light side during the war. A good many of the dark lord's plans, both then and now, supported the claim, but Harry had to wonder just what side the man was really on. As of now, he appeared to be straddling the line between both light and dark, a dangerous position for anyone, but for a man who had sworn loyalty to the dark through a mark on his arm and also through vows to the light, it was even more dangerous.

He intended to have his answer, no matter what needed to be done. The only way he could ensure Tom's victory was to make sure that the spies were only reporting as much as was absolutely necessary. To many foiled attacks lowered numbers and morale. He had dropped his glamour and appeared as he truly did now, with long black hair, sharp pale features, and unnatural gold eyes, and he was waiting in the darkness for the professor to enter his office after dinner was over. Exactly on time, as always, Snape entered the office, closing and locking the door behind him.

Harry appeared on the desk, one foot raised to perch on the edge and support an arm while he twirled a potion vial between his fingers. Leather pants, a gift from Robert, and a black silk shirt made his pale skin stand out even more in the dim lighting of the room. Severus turned abruptly, his wand drawn and pointed. Harry smiled at him without even attempting to hide the pearly white fangs that declared what he was. If he hadn't been a vampire he'd have missed the subtle paling of the other's skin and the faster pace of his heart.

"Good evening, Severus Snape. I believe the last time we came across one another there wasn't any time to be introduced. You may call me Jasper for the duration of this visit." He placed the vial back in the wooden rack crafted for it. "Now, tell me, how does a man serve two masters?" The professor didn't speak. The grip on his wand tightened and his face fell into a expressionless mask. Harry slipped gracefully off the desk, black leather boots planting firmly on the floor with a sharp sound. "Take a seat." He gestured to the chair in front of him.

For a moment it looked as if Severus was weighing the chances of him escaping the room or hitting the vampire with a lethal spell. The potion's teacher slowly stepped forward, lowering the wand as he walked toward the designated chair. When he finally sat, Harry spoke again.

"I don't know what side you're truly for, nor do I care, but you've managed to spoil quite of few of Lord Voldemort's plans while playing spy." He leaned back against the desk he'd been sitting on shortly before and braced his arms on either side of him, nudging over papers and jars. "So, I've come to the conclusion that you have your very own agenda, professor, and that you think your plans can supersede the lord's." Severus didn't speak and Harry frowned at him. "Answer."

"I believe you've already come to a decision." Snape stated blandly.

"While that very well may be the case, my own opinion hardly matters as the Dark Lord has use for you yet." Harry looked to the side of the room, appearing to examine the wall before looking back. "I want to establish where you stand and how far the dark should trust you. Then again, you may decide after this conversation that your spying days are over and sequester yourself behind these walls in the vain hope that they shall buy you a bit more time to accomplish what you feel you need to do. If that is the case, perhaps I should just risk Voldemort's anger and take care of the problem now."

Harry was instantly across the room, his form a blur with the preternatural speed he possessed. He stood just before Snape, bent down to look at him from eye level. He brushed back a piece of lanky black hair and ran a long, shape nail down the man's jaw with a small smile on his face. The tips of his fingers ended gently along the side of his throat. His eyes brightened at he watch the vein pulse against the professor's skin. It had been a long time since he'd fed and even longer since he had real blood, and just because he no longer needed it for survival didn't mean that he found no joy in it. His pale hand wound into the black hair, snapping the man's head back as far as it would bend and stretching his throat in to a smooth arc.

"It has been some time since I've had blood." He smiled again. "I hope you don't mind." He slowly bent forward.

The small amount of vampire venom that coursed through the veins of the potions professor was, admittedly, tantalizing, like good liquor or vintage wine. He didn't know how the man had gotten just a knick from vampire fangs, but however it happened, it made his blood smell delicious. His fangs had just touched the skin. Harry wondered if the man would taste like the dark magic he exuded or the venom within him. A knock sounded at the door. Harry's head snapped up and he growled. He pulled away enough to peer into dark eyes.

"We'll finish this later." And the shadow from beneath the chair seemed to creep forward, wrapping around the vampire's feet. The handle on the door clicked and Jasper sunk into the shadow on the floor just as the heavy wood door slowly opened. Severus breathed a sigh of relief and turned to see who had bypassed the locks he'd put on the door. Dumbledore stood in the entrance, one hand still resting on the handle. His usually jovial face replaced with one of an upset frown. His blue eyes flicked from one side of the room to the other in search before the came to rest on the potions master.

"Are you all right, dear boy?"

"Absolutely fine." Snape said casually as he rose from the chair and brush a hand down his robes. "Is there something you needed?"

"No, no. I had, for a moment, a dreadful feeling and decided to see where it lead me."

"Well as you can see, there is nothing here." He waved an arm widely to the empty room.

"I see that. I'll be going then, shall I." Dumbledore turned to leave.

"Headmaster." The wizened wizard turned back to look at the other. "The Dark Lord's friend, I have recently discovered that he is a vampire. Perhaps it would be prudent to erect some wards?"

"Of course, I shall see to it." There was a brief pause as Albus considered Severus. "Is there anything else you would like to tell me?"

"No." He stated blandly, some how feeling like a naughty child under that unwavering gaze.

"All right then. Goodnight."

~..~

Harry wasn't all that shocked, though he was annoyed, to find wards that repelled vampires set about Hogwarts. He could pass through them as he was still a student, but chances were that, if his alter ego was ever discovered, access to the school would be denied him. It wasn't as though it mattered much in the long run as, all other things aside, he was going to make sure Voldemort was victorious and if there ever was an inclination to return -which there wasn't- he would be able to do so. In the short, however, it was likely that the school would become a strong hold for the light sided wizards and he wouldn't have access to their plans, and in no way was he submitting himself to Dumbledore's little order. It was a nightmare just to see him sitting up at the head table. He could imagine what it would be like if he had to see the man on a daily basis.

And speaking of the old bastard, he was up to something. Oh, Harry had seen the suspicious glances and cautious looks. The headmaster thought he knew something, which was entirely impossible. At least for anything true. There wasn't any way that the professor could possibly guess the level of subterfuge he was employing; hell, Harry was leading it and even he doubted he knew the true extent. With the vampires quietly infiltrating the ministry to supply information and the few that he had keeping an eye out on Dumbledore little group along with countless others, he really had no idea the true extent of his network. Not yet at any rate. He would likely be finding out by the summer at the latest. Once there was a headquarters to work out of, it would be easier to learn about all of the contacts he was utilizing.

In short, what ever the headmaster believed likely involved the only enemy that the man could think of. That being Voldemort. He wouldn't even begin to suspect the vampires, even if Snape had. The headmaster, unless he was informed by his spy of overtures to the race, would blithely ignore it. Harry had to admit that pointless worrying would be to distracting, but not considering the possibility now was foolish.

Harry sighed and leaned gently against the whomping willow. The tree seemed to like him far better now, forgiving him for the part he taken in running a tree into its branches. It was long past curfew and was edging on being early morning. Neither the castle or forest had been attractive this night but the willow was, even though he was easily seen from most angles. He'd wanted to think, most especially about situation with Snape. Merlin knows he didn't like the man, hated him in fact, and the feeling was no less than mutual, but he also realized that Voldemort still had use of him. Well, unless Snape didn't show the next time he was summoned, which was highly probable considering that 'Jasper' had confronted him. It wasn't entirely certain as Harry couldn't guess what went through the man's mind at any time. He also wondered at what Voldemort would do in discovering that he not only lost his spy, but that his spy was in fact a double agent. Or for the most part. Harry doubted the man was truly on any side. Ooh, he'd just had a new thought.

What if he could bring Snape into the fold? The man had a minute amount of venom within him, all it would take was a complete turning and perhaps a small blood binding and he would be theirs. The man's talents, in both potions and information gathering, would be useful. That was what he would do then. Offer the man to be turned and tied to them, or killed. The vampires would, of course, offer protection from either of his masters. He would have to do it soon, tonight if possible. It would prove better if the professor was still one of Voldemort's men, as then the Dark Lord wouldn't send his minions out to kill him.

Yes, that was perfect.

~..~

"You called, headmaster?" Snape sneered at the thought of being ordered about like a dog, though he supposed that after so long he should be used to it.

"I've a task for you." The older man started, clasping his hands and looking up at the potion's teacher from his seat. "I worry that Voldemort has gained access to Harry's mind and is attempting to use him, his change in behavior is worrying." Snape scoffed.

"It's just the brat's plea for attention, typical teenage rebellion."

"And the sneaking out at odd hours?"

"Surely you realize that Potter is, in fact, a teenager and that, as a teenager, he is prone to hormones. I don't doubt the boy is working his way through his year mates." Snape sneered again at the thought. If he ever caught the boy out, there would be hell to pay.

"Would you be willing to place your life on that statement?" Albus asked. Severus fell in to a stillness that Dumbledore had seldom seen in the other.

"What is it you wanted?" The professor asked in resignation.

"I want you to keep a close eye on the boy. He's been spending more time talking to your Slytherins then to the Gryffindors, young Draco in particular."

"I've noticed. Lucius is just thrilled." He spat. "Was that all?" Dumbledore gave a short pause before speaking again.

"I feel it wise to consider the option of teaching Harry occulmency." Dark eyes narrowed at the elder man.

"And you are informing me of this because... ?"

"Why, dear boy, I want you to be the one to teach him." Dumbledore appeared please by the idea.

_'No doubt he'd deluding himself in visions of Potter and I 'bonding' or some such rot.' _"No." Albus blinked at him.

"No?"

"As in: no I will not." Severus clarified.

"But surely-"

"I'll not teach James Potter's little celebrity brat."

"Quite sure, are you?" The headmaster popped a lemon drop in his mouth. "And what of poor Lily's boy... it would be such a shame if Voldemort destroys his mind." Albus sighed regretfully. "I suppose we should just send the poor lad off to Saint Mungo's now."

"Fine!" Snape hissed. "Fine, I'll teach the boy, but if he steps out of line once, it's over."

"Fair enough." Dumbledore nodded. "Do be careful though. If he truly is watching, you must make it believable that this decision rests squarely on my shoulders and your efforts were not voluntary."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I shall see you tomorrow."

"My anticipation can barely be contained." Snape dry comment followed him out.

~..~_**Oct 12**_

Harry was on his way to find Draco with a letter loosely clasped in his hand. It was a day earlier than expected, but he was in a bit of a rush to get things done. It was as he was coming around a corner that he came across a slightly unusual sight. A tall student, Ravenclaw by their school patch, was towering over a blond girl with distant eyes. While that in and of itself wasn't unusual -bullying that is- what was, was that it was being done without magic. He knew the girl's name as it was hard to forget when it was shared with the name of one of the clans. Luna. He stepped up silently behind her aggressor, unnoticed up until the point where he forced the older boy around to face him.

"I think you should leave her alone." His tone was surprisingly friendly compared to the menace that was obvious on his face. "Don't you?"

"Y-yeah." Harry watched the 'Claw flee down the hallway before turning back to the girl.

"You alright, Luna?"

"Oh, yes." She said in what seemed to be an absentminded way.

"They do that often?" He nodded in the direction the other student had gone.

"Not often, no."

"What are you doing out here anyway? Isn't it a little late to be wandering?" Though, he supposed, the same could be said bout him.

"I wanted to meet the strange colored thestral that lives in the school."

"And did you?"

"Yes, he's very nice." She stared at him with those eerily distant eyes. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight Luna." He nodded and continued on his way. He glanced back only once with the feeling that she knew more than she ought to. He shook his head and continued on towards the Slytherin common room.

The password to the portrait hadn't changed in the last two days, but as he wasn't supposed to know it, he stood outside and knocked and informed the answerer to send Malfoy out. The student, a second year he believed, closed the door tightly behind her and went off to retrieve the blond. Harry leaned against the stone wall, lost in thought of how, exactly, he was going to get the potion professor's compliance. It would be far more beneficial overall if the man would believe it was his idea, but Harry could give credit where it was due and admit then man far to intelligent for that. There was nothing to bribe or blackmail him with so thoroughly that it would sway him, and the only real option there was, was to threaten him. Snape was a Slytherin if nothing else. The door opened.

"Potter."

"Malfoy." Harry stood. "Here's the letter, don't let any one know who you gave it to until after it's sent out, and warn them not to open it. It's heavily cursed." Draco took the envelope.

"Now, for your end of the bargain." There was a sly tilt to those lips. Harry heard the barely there steps of soft shoes and snapped his head around. "Potter?" Harry narrowed his eyes. Though he couldn't see anything in the dim lighting, he knew he had heard something.

"You got some where else to take this?" He asked in a low voice.

"Follow me." And just as they both turned, a whiff of potions and dark magic crossed his senses. Was Snape spying on him, or Malfoy? Draco lead him through the common room and down several set of stairs to the hall that contained, what Harry supposed, was the fifth year dorm rooms. Malfoy opened the door and gestured him inside. "Who was it?" The blond asked once he was comfortably seated in a chair.

"Snape." Answered Harry.

"It isn't unusual to have him stalking about the dungeons." Draco pointed out.

"He was watching, but I'm not sure whether it was you or I he had an eye on." A pause. "Does he watch the Slytherins often." Draco appeared to think about it then shrugged.

"He may or may not." He said noncommittally. "Now, about what I want, give me something on the Dark Lord's enemies."

"Neutral Draco." Harry pointed out. "You know I wouldn't answer that."

"I have to check every time." The blond gave another shrug. "How about the whole story about the part you played in the Dark Lord's return." Harry nodded.

"It was a ritual for Voldemort to regain a body. Some of it had been started before I had arrived. There was a potion brewing in a heavy cauldron. The form Voldemort had taken was a twisted thing, and it was thrown in. There were three other ingredients needed, bone of the father unknowingly given, flesh of the servant willingly given, and blood of the enemy forcibly taken. Next thing I know, he's popping out of the cauldron and telling wormtail to robe him."

"I've never heard of that ritual."

"I wouldn't suspected you had."

"Why's that?"

"That rituals origins are from farther east, though I don't know exactly where, but I think it was a mix of several regions spells from when that Dark Lord _-oh, what was his name?- _Prote'us, I think, was on the rise." Draco blinked at him.

"Who?"

"Never mind." He waved a hand. "Now, who are you planning on handing the letter off to?"

"I was going to use Pansy. She sends letters home at least every two days. I told her to hold of and explain in her last letter that the next would be delayed."

"Alright. I'll see you around." He nodded to the blond and showed himself out. Snape wasn't waiting when he left which was perfect considering 'Jasper' was going to show up.

~..~

Harry found Snape lounging in his private quarters with a glass of firewhiskey in one hand and his eyes locked on the fire. The black robe the man usually wore during his classes was carelessly tossed over the back of an adjacent chair leaving the man clad in black trousers and an equally black button up shirt. Harry watched him for a time as the other nursed the drink in his hands, distracted by his thoughts more than anything else. He wondered at what could have the man so lost. Surely it couldn't have only been catching him and Malfoy meeting. Practically the whole school knew they had come up with an arrangement of sorts.

"Severus Snape." The professor leapt out of the chair, splashing his drink on the carpet as he turned to face the intruder. "Good to see you again. Please, sit, no need to keep standing on my account." When the teacher didn't move, Harry took the seat he had vacated.

He folded himself comfortably into the chair and looked up at the man who had yet to take his eyes off the vampires apparel. It wasn't something Harry like to wear, even back in the sixteen hundreds when it was in style, but with the professor just having laid eyes on Harry Potter he wanted to keep as much distance between his two selves as possible. Black pants were tucked into soft black leather boots and a black velvet coat covered his white shirt. The coat was open enough to let the ruffled lace that made up a collar spill forth and more lace held out the ends of his sleeves. His hair was pulled back in a gentle tie that made it obvious the hair was far longer than one could tell initially.

"I've come with an offer for you, Mr. Snape.

"And what would that be?" His voice was tight. With all the new vampire wards around the school, this one shouldn't have been able to come in.

"I've come to the conclusion that you are a very useful man, despite how dangerous you are with your position. So, I've decided to let you continue playing with the light and dark forces, as long as you agree to my terms."

"What terms?"

"That your loyalty belongs to only one, the vampires."

"As you said, how can a man serve two masters, let alone three."

"Ah, but you see, it shall be one master. The Dark Lord will always have you, courtesy of that mark." He gestured to the man's left arm. "But the vampires shall hold your leash. These are your options, either you agree to be turned and bound into one of the vampire lines, or you die. Quite simple and efficient, if I do say so myself." He smiled widely. The dark man seemed to falter for a moment.

"And I suppose my death is guaranteed once this war is over." He stated as if it were a fact.

"No, of course not. You shall have your life, as long as you follow the rules, and the rules _are_ easy to follow. You do as your lord commands without the betrayal to the light side. I shall give you information to pass on to Dumbledore that will keep you secured here. If the old man were to ever discover your true nature, which I doubt he will, I shall arrange for you to be able to escape at some time. Nice and simple, isn't it? You no longer have to worry about the duality of your situation." Harry smiled again. "That choice has been forever removed from you."

Snape didn't move as he contemplated. Well, really there wasn't much to contemplate. It was either his service or his death. He'd be picking out of two evils, freedom and servitude. Not much of a choice if you asked him, but no one did so he was left with what mattered more to him.

"What, exactly, constitutes betrayal? You must know that Dumbledore often has me doing his own little missions."

"I'm aware." Harry waved his hand as he thought. "I suppose that you could use your best judgment... but be aware that I _will_ find out everything you do and have done." His voice held promise.

"I... choose to live."

"Survival, nothing to be ashamed of." Harry nodded. "For now I'll take an oath that you will not run, nor will you hide from me or mine. You will petition to leave during the Christmas break, lie if you have to. Myself or one of my representatives will be waiting for you at Borgin and Burkes on the 24th or, barring that, the 27th at 3 pm. Do not be late or I will have assumed you have fled and will act accordingly. If you have been summoned I will be aware it. Also know that if I find that you have involved the Old Man or any of his fellows, you will not be the only one to die. Now, for your oath."

Snape didn't even hesitate in swearing that he would neither hide or flee from the vampire before him. He was backed into a corner, and he was aware that it would be a futile effort to fight this. It would take time to come up with a back up plan, but he would eventually get there. He was, after all, a Slytherin.

~..~

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers. Your support of this story convinces me to put out chapter far more often than my usual rate. And it's a few days early, but Merry Christmas to everyone, or which ever holiday you celebrate this time of year.

abibliophobia - you were right, that's a typo. I'm horrible for missing things like that. Eventually, I might get around to fixing it, but... well, I want to finish the story first. Just to make sure I got it right, the story is supposed to start with Harry being on a boat on the 20th of October during his fifth year. It rewinds to when he disappears his summer after fourth year, gets tossed into the past jumping through time to spend 5th, 6th, and 7th year with Riddle, but dies before graduating. He 'comes back to life' a year before he had left initially. That's what I had intended at any rate. Thankfully that's all the time jumping there will be. Everything from here on out is straightforward.

'demort - I _am_ a fan of 300, did I make that to obvious? Really though, I wanted some historical places to touch on to show the passage of time, but I hated to get Harry directly involved with anything. If I'd done that I would suspect that you wouldn't be the only one hitting the back button. As for Dumbledore... well, I have to be careful because, while I really dislike him as a character, I can't really stamp him as 'evil'. That and I'm trying to avoid any bashing I can. So I'm trying to make him out to be a more realistic light-side leader with the -_pardon the cliché- _greater good incentive.

Barranca - no, Harry isn't very subtle, but as of now, he can get away with that. Eventually, I'm hoping to tie him down with more adept followers, but as for now he can do as he wants and thumb his nose at them while doing so.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Azkaban**_

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"_A little rebellion now and then... is a medicine necessary for the sound health of government."_

_~ Thomas Jefferson_

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**October 20**

It was time.

The boats quietly slid up on sandy beaches, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore covered the small clamor they made preparing themselves. Knives and swords were held tightly as those who would take the front grouped together to discuss their tactics again. Others stretched and readied in other ways. There couldn't have been more than sixty of them in total, at least one reigning from each of the royal clans and others just looking for a home and had heard about the plan to take Azkaban.

The walls of the prison were large, impressive, even on a night when the entirety couldn't be seen. The gates that had been destroyed on Voldemort's visit had been painstakingly repaired, were held closed with heavy metal bars. Harry looked around at each of the vampires, their eager gazes taking his. This would be an amazing night, he decided. He raised a hand high over head and brought it down in a sharp gesture. The vampires were on the move quickly. Those that controlled fire called it to their hands, raising columns of flame against the doors. The few who could, started climbing the walls, heading off to cut the lines of alert to the ministry. The doors were melted quickly, reduced to cooling piles of slag as the vampires swarmed over and passed it into the confines of the prison walls. There was only a momentary pause before Harry decided to join the fray.

Inside was pure chaos. The vampires, following their orders, hadn't cut down any of the auror guards that had been caught patrolling, but they were forced by sword point into cells and disarmed as quickly as possible. There was a sharp scream and a dismembered hand flew by his head as Harry made his way further in. He'd said no deaths, but perhaps, he should have broadened that to no maiming. He supposed though, that this was the best deal he could get as the majority of the vampires that fell under his leadership had a not so friendly history with wizards and witches.

He was making his way to the lowest possible point of the prison. That point would be the closest to the underground city and they would work through the stone to make an opening. There might have been a door at some point, but chances were that it was not only sealed shut, but built over. As he drew lower, there was a strange sense of coming home. Magic, which was supposed to be none existent swept up around him, dancing across his senses in pleased greeting. The city knew they were there and was calling them home.

Some thing rumbled down the hall, a low grating sound that could be nothing other that stone moving against stone. It was, therefore, a surprise when the floor directly beneath his feet gave out and let him plunge into darkness. The space around him was entirely open, nothing to grasp to slow or stop his fall. He found it ironic that not long ago he'd contemplated throwing himself from a tower to see if a high fall would kill him. Now, at least, he would get his chance at the knowledge. He was contemplating how much the landing would hurt when his feet hit the ground with a bone jarring impact. It was astonishing that nothing had broken.

There is another swirl of magic, this one probing and documenting before pulling at him, sending his own powers out, controlled by a different force, to an unknown duty. The room, or what he had thought had been a room, was suddenly lit by torches. It was revealed to be no a room, not really, but an astoundingly large grotto. Buildings, all seamlessly rising from stone floors, looking as if they'd been carved as they stood from the rock itself were strategically placed. It was vast, an amazing site. Still, more torches lit, exposing more and more of an impossible city.

There was a thud on the ground behind him and a few short steps brought another vampire directly behind him to join in looking out over the ancient city. A flash of canary yellow hair told him that Jean-Claude had followed him down the drop.

"It's an amazing site."

"It is." Harry agreed.

"Wards have suddenly sprung about the island." The other hadn't taken his eyes from the city.

"Wards?"

"Mmm..." He appeared to pause for a moment. "Yes, wards. Vampire wards. They are weak right now, not likely to hold for more than two days without reinforcement, but they'll keep any humans from entering without a vampire escort."

"How do you reinforce them?" He asked curiously. He'd never seen any wards strengthened before, and he suspected that a vampire's wards were even more complex as the taste of their magic was different than a wizards.

"I have no clue." Harry hesitated, opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it once again.

"What do you mean you have no clue."

"Exactly as I said. We haven't used any vampire wards since back when the original council was working. What we use now are loosely based on a blood wards that some of the older wizard families use on their manor homes."

"So what do we do?"

"Set up new wards or attempt to find our how to amplify the ones we have."

"Have you seen these vampire wards before." Jean-Claude nodded. "How similar are they to wizard wards?"

"In what way?"

"Well, do you know if they use anchoring stones, ley lines, or what their tied to, to hold them here."

"I believe that m'lord Fuga had mentioned in passing a single key stone, rune carved and borne of magic. I don't know enough to substantiate that, but if these were tied to anything, I would suspect that to be it."

"I wonder... If I could find it would an empowering ritual..." He trailed off, speaking his thoughts aloud.

"Cassandra was looking for you." Jean-Claude and Harry both turned around to look at the new arrival.

Damien tossed his bright red hair back and planed a hand firmly on a leather clad hip. His shirt cuffs were slightly blackened and a tear slit open the shoulder, but otherwise he looked completely untouched. By his smiling face, it looked as if he had enjoyed the battle, sort and easy as it had appeared to be.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"She wanted to talk to you about 'an emotional instability that was cause by soul magic that shouldn't have been possible." There was a short pause. "How they hell did you manage soul magic anyway? It shouldn't be possible for a vampire."

"Damien, we both know that born vampires are born with souls and capable of such magics." Jean-Claude said softly.

"Born vamp-" He cut himself off and locked his eyes to Harry's. "Born vampire?"

"Yes. Just that lucky I suppose. Do you know where she is at?"

"I think she decided to wait for you by the gate. Hoping to catch you before you left I suppose."

"Alright then. Keep a look out for that stone you were talking about and let me know when you come across it. It's best I leave before my absence is noted." He nodded in farewell.

Figuring out how to get back out the tunnel he'd fallen through turned out to be an interesting task. the walls had been perfectly smooth, like a river rock was, and spaced to far about to spider climb the walls. He had ended up gouging small hand holds in the wall with preternatural strength and a bit a magical help. Things had calmed down above ground and were being organized promptly and efficiently. There had been no deaths, even with some of the severe injuries obtained by aurors. Cassandra was waiting for him by the gate.

"Cassandra." He greeted with a nod of his head.

"My lord." She nodded back.

"What was it you needed?"

"I'm aware of you performing some kind of magic that effected the soul." She started off. "What ever you did, has left it with a piece missing." He froze.

"A horcrux?" He questioned softly. Her jewel colored eyes were filled with knowing.

"I need you to explain the situation before I can confirm that." He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair.

"I was mistakenly made a horcrux some time ago. I discovered the piece of soul in a semi-accidental way. I used a ritual with the intention to remove the piece as it would give away my identity due to the nature of a soul piece drawing near the original soul."

"What was the rituals name?"

"It didn't have one. It's original purpose was the transference of magical abilities or powers from one vessel to another. In an obscure way, the soul piece was just another magical power. I moved it."

"Describe it." He did as told. She nodded. "I know which one you are talking about. Soul magic is an obscure and restricted art, and there isn't much known about it. I suspect that the horcrux you had, had integrated with you in a way that shouldn't have been possible."

"Story of my life." He muttered, and she continued on, ignoring the interruption.

"It tied itself to your soul in such a way that only death should have removed it. Your ritual, however, was able to pull it from you as the container. It was still tied to you though, and it pulled a piece of your soul along in the transference."

"So what does that mean?"

"In a roundabout way it does make it a horcrux but without all the downsides to it." She nodded mostly to herself. "I'm also aware of your inability to tame down certain emotions."

"Damn seers." He said, earning a soft barely there smile from her.

"I suspect that you soul being fracture and split without the finality of the horcrux ritual and its close ties to this second soul piece resulted in a flare of emotion that wasn't entirely your own."

"What's that mean exactly?"

"Did you ever, while still human and tied to the horcrux, experience elatedness or anger that seem foreign or inappropriate?"

"Yes."

"I believe that the emotions were transferred to you from the main soul through the soul piece. The same is happening now, though on a more indirect scale. Instead of being transferred instantly, it's flowing to you slowly. It's shortened your control despite your years of experience."

"So how would I stop this?"

"The permanent solution would be to separate the two pieces. The temporary one, and not nearly as effective, would be to keep the object you transferred them into close to you."

"Would I still have emotional outbursts?"

"Yes, but most of the time you would have your fine control, and you would likely be able to handle sudden irrational bursts."

"Thank you. This was something that had plagued me for a while. I do have one more question though. Why did it only start at the beginning of the year?"

"That was because your ring." She gestured to the metal bands on his hand. "Its use has effected the link between your soul and the piece in such a way that it was forced to be more noticeable."

"Thank you again. I'm due back now." Both nodded their farewells to each other, and Harry quickly left back to the school.

~..~

It was late the next day before the wizarding world discovered the loss of Azkaban. The details hadn't been forth coming, which Harry had known it wouldn't be, just the headlines proclaiming the prison lost. He'd barely fought of the smile at breakfast at the horrified cries of the students. Hermione had pressed a hand over her mouth and Ron looked stunned. It was Neville's reaction, that had him wondering. After the up and coming herbologist had read the paper, he shot Harry several very knowing looks, making him wonder if Longbottom had some how found something out. He resolved to talk to him later.

"Oh! Harry isn't this awful!" Harry gave Hermione a confused face.

"I don't really have an opinion. I mean... you know about... well, _him _being stuck there. I think it's better if we don't even have it." He shrugged.

"But what about the prisoners or the Death Eaters they catch." He only shrugged again.

"If Voldemort could break out his followers, I really don't see the point in sending them in the first place."

"So what do you suggest we do with them." Harry held for a moment, unsure if he should really announce his thoughts.

"I don't know." He decided not to say that he was in for more permanent solutions. "But Azkaban was never really a good idea. The dementors especially." Hermione didn't agree with him entirely, he could tell, but the solemn nod showed that she shared his opinions on the dementors. Harry got up to leave when Neville's voice stopped him.

"Could I talk to you later, Harry?" The boy looked terribly shy in asking, but there was a look in his eyes that said this conversation would be had sooner or later.

"Do you have time after lunch?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see you at lunch then."

"Luna's coming as well."

"Alright." Harry agreed.

~..~

"Potter!"

Harry pressed his fingers to his temples. Slytherins were supposed to be sneaky, cunning, and all those other adjectives that meant subtle in a vague way. So why was it that they enjoyed shouting out his name in the halls and drawing attention to not only him, but them as well. He sighed and turned slowly. Pansy was sneering at him, a scarlet envelope in hand.

"Yes, Parkinson?"

"Just because you can't get Draco to play post owl, doesn't mean you can use the other Slytherins. Find yourself a bloody bird."

"I take it the note is for me?" He looked at the envelope pointedly.

"I'm not giving to you without something in return." She crossed her arms. "I'm sure Professor Snape would be interested in its contents."

"Blackmail Pansy? Really?" He sounded amused.

"It's Parkinson to you, Potter."

"_Accio_." She squeaked at the letter was ripped from her hands. He slid it into his robes and stepped up to her. A malevolent smirk found a place across his face as moved close enough for his robes to brush against hers. "Slytherin and I may have a truce, but if you try to blackmail me again, you shall find yourself hanging from the battlements. I've no problem with paying a price." He said conversationally, pulling forth a lock of her hair to twine between his fingers. "I'm sure though, that because of this_ misunderstanding_ you shall ignore this one, yes?"

Some thing in his face must have betrayed darker thoughts because she suddenly paled and nodded frantically. She didn't step away though, or even protest his proximity. His sinister smile faded into something more pleased though it held an edge to it.

"Very good. Now, run along." He shooed her away as if she were a small child. Her body leant forward as if she went to bow before she finally got a grip on herself and took of down the hall. He shook his head and quickly opened the letter. It was short and to the point. The stone -the one Jean-Claude had spoke of- had been found. There was also a side note that if he wanted the old wards to remain, he needed to some and strengthen the wards before noon tomorrow.

~..~

Pansy pressed a hand to her chest in an attempt calm her frantically beating heart. What was that? Merlin, for a moment Potter had looked so dark and evil, as if he would pull his wand and crucio her for her impertenace. He look almost exactly like-

"Pansy?" Blaise's voice drew her. "What's going on?"

"Salazar! It was just - he was so-"

"Calm down." He ordered quietly. Her frenzied words were drawing undue attention. "Start off slowly, from the beginning."

"I went to give Potter his note. I wanted something from him, you know, like trying to blackmail him."

"Pansy..." Blaise started plaintively."

"Shut up, I know that." She hissed. "I just wasn't, expecting... how he was."

"How he was?"

"It was like... It was like meating the Dark Lord all over again. Merlin, it was like I'd just done something foolish _in front of the Dark Lord_. Just the way Potter looked at me, it was like having _him_ debating about crucio-ing me."

"Potter?" The disbelief was evident.

"Yeah. It was... unreal."

"Come on. We'll tell Draco and have him send a letter to his father. This doesn't feel right."

"Alright."

~..~

Lunch came on entirely to fast for Harry's taste. He was still contemplating how to exit the school for the second day in a row without notice. He wasn't sure he could to it entirely on his own, and he would likely have to enlist some kind of aid. It was likely that his only option was going to be the Slytherins, but he doubted their price for this was going to be reasonable. In fact, with the situation he found himself in, he was likely to be taken advantage of, and this time, there wasn't much he could to about it. The wards, no matter how old and for his brief look, seemed remarkable and complex. He wanted to keep a hold of them. He waited for Luna and Neville outside the great hall's doors after the meal was over and lead them down a hall that had no portraits in it.

"Well?"

"We don't know exactly what's going on," Neville started. "But we know that you have something to do with the vampires."

"That's it?" He asked.

"No, but we know that the vampires are also allying with you-know-who."

"How do you know that?" They shared a glance.

"We both have family who've been turned." The boy gave a small pause. "I don't know why you joined him, but I think that if you did, there must be a good reason for it."

"My reasons are a bit more personal then they should be in a situation like this." He admitted.

"Still Harry, you don't seemed like some one to do something just because. We," He gestured between himself and Luna. "Wanted you to know that we're with you."

"Why?" He was confused.

"Because, we're supposed to follow the strange thestral and become one ourselves." Luna stated serenely.

"_What_?" He nearly yelped.

They both smiled at him. "We'll see you around Harry." His brain caught up with him as they turned to leave.

"Wait!" They turned to look at him. "I need your help."

~..~

Lucius performed a sweeping low bow as he approached his lord with his son's letter in hand. If it hadn't contained such... unusual information, he would have put it off until the next time he was summoned. As it was though, the strange shift of the boy-who-lived's attitude was enough of a question that he'd immediately brought it forth to the Dark Lord to look over. He quickly explained his presence and offered up the letter, along with an update on the situation that was occurring between Potter and the Slytherin house.

"Curious." Voldemort hissed. "Does you son know the contents of the letters that had been sent out?"

"No my lord, they were all heavily curse and warded against any one opening them besides the intended recipient."

"Are you aware to the reason he had asked your son to deliver the letters for him?"

"Potter informed Draco that he suspected his mail to be monitored."

"As well he should." Voldemort nodded. "Perhaps... you should have a short talk with Mr. Potter on his standing, and you might mention a prophecy."

"My lord?"

"No specifics of course, a guard schedule, and maybe Severus's involvement. You may encourage him to retrieve it as well."

"Right away, my lord." Lucius gave another of those low sweeping bows before exiting the room.

Voldemort looked down to the letter in his hand. Potter had declared neutral, but it seemed as if the boy were concocting his own plots. The vampires had taken Azkaban, as Jasper had said they would, and he was expecting the vampire to appear soon. Everything was moving forward at a pace he hadn't expected. He was actually pleased with it. It wasn't often that everything seemed to come to come together.

~..~

Luna and Neville agreed to cover for him for the night and allow him to slip away. He didn't go into details, such as him being behind the taking of Azkaban -though he suspected they both already knew, but they went along with it readily enough. As of the moment, he was soaring over the water on his firebolt to the island, hoping that it wouldn't take to long to accomplish the task he set himself. Brutus was waiting at the gate for him.

"Brutus." Harry greeted. "What's the situation?"

"My Lord." He nodded. "We found the stone, it's in the bottom of the city's lake."

"Can it be moved?"

"No."

"Is it like Jean-Claude described?"

"It's rune carved and highly magical, but we don't know anything else about it." Brutus lead Harry though the prison and back down the drop into the city. There was a lake in the middle of the city. He'd missed on his first visit. Now though, it was hard not see as there were nearly a dozen vampires surrounding it.

"Why don't you know anything else?"

"Only Jean-Claude was able to enter the water of the lake, and then he wasn't able to draw to near to it."

"Why's that?"

"The stone has a protection on it, a type of ward that doesn't let anyone other than a lord through." Jean-Claude said as he walked towards them. "I have only seen anything like it once."

"So what do we do?"

"You're the only one who can empower the stone."

Harry massaged a temple.

"How would I do that?" Brutus and Jean-Claude both shrugged. "Some help." He sighed. "I guess I'm going swimming."

He slid his robe off his shoulders as he walked and passed it over to Jean-Claude. His shirt and school tie soon followed, along with his shoes and socks. He was left clad only in black trousers. The water was surprisingly warm as he stepped into it. The ground only went into the lake for a short span before it hit a sudden and steep drop off. He slipped beneath the surface of the water. Even from as far down as the stone was, he could see it glow. Magic lit the carved runes that stretched across its surface and the crystal formations that grew from the surrounding stone reflected the light it gave and made the area shine brightly.

Harry was unimpeded in his approach, though there was a brief resistance when he entered the field of crystals. He suspected that it was the formations themselves that upheld the ward that kept others from coming to close. The stone was large, easily twice his size. The rune chains wrapped around it like ropes, and they weren't carved like he'd thought, instead they were raised above the surface. He swam around the rock in a full circle, examining it as thoroughly as he could. He could feel the magic pulse from it, but it felt slow, almost sickly. Jean-Claude had been right. Unless he figured out a way, the wards would fall.

He poked and prodded the stone, feeling it with his hands and his magic. It was far more complex than he initially thought, but he still had no idea what to do with it. The magic in it was self contained and neutral. Thread of energy stretched out to the wards, supplying them with magic and keeping them in place. He let himself float away a few feet before he frowned. The only thing he could think of, would be to flood the lines that lead to the wards. Hopefully that would send the energy back from the wards themselves, down the lines, and back into the stone. The downside was that, if it didn't work or if he didn't have enough power, he would collapse the wards himself. Considering that there were no other options... well, there weren't any other options.

His hand grasped the metaphysical ties and he poured energy into them. The lines fluoresced a brilliant white that flowed to the wards and shifted colors to shades of orange, red, and yellow. They brightened slowly, the color becoming more intense as he forced magic into them. Then suddenly, his strength was sapped, and he felt as if he'd taken a hard hit to the chest. His magic staggered, the wards dimmed. He felt them waver, the edges start to fall, the structure starting to give.

He hadn't even realized his magic was calling out for help until more joined his in holding the wards. One by one, the vampires standing at the surface tied their magic to his, giving him access to pour into the ties. The wards flared brightly, forcing him to look away. The remaining energy seemed to ricochet off the wards, bounce back down the lines and embed itself into the stone. The wards held as he pulled away. They'd succeeded.

~..~

Lucius appeared in the school the next day, a ministry envelope held in one hand and his cane in the others. It was lunch, so the student body along with the faculty were convened in the great hall enjoying food. His cane made a harsh noise across the stone floor as he approached the open door and stepped through. the Slytherins were the first to notice the blond aristocrat and quieted almost immediately. Their silence drew every one else's attention to him. He casually made his way passed the students at the tables to his target, Harry Potter. The avada kedavra colored eyes rose to meet his as he stopped next to the boy.

"Mr. Potter, come with me."

"Mr. Malfoy." Harry greeted as he rose from his seat to follow the man.

"Lucius, to what do we owe the pleasure." Albus asked, walking towards them both with Minerva on one side and Severus on the other.

"Business between myself and Mr. Potter." He held up the envelope as proof that the headmaster had no right to interfere.

"I'm afraid that, as the boy is still a minor, this must be discussed with an adult present." Harry appeared to think about that and quickly shot a glance at Lucius.

"I'm sure Professor Snape will suffice." He said, taking the look as it was meant and suggested the teacher. All three teachers turned to look at Harry.

"I don't mind." He shrugged. This gave them all a bit of a start, but Dumbledore had no choice other than to relent and allow the meeting. He trusted Severus with his life after all. The two Death Eaters, however, were giving Harry shrewd looks. The three moved off to one of the rooms that connected to the great hall. Severus shut the door quietly behind him and stood guard, far enough to appear to give privacy but close enough to hear what was said.

"So, Mr. Malfoy, what business do you have with me?"

"I was sent an interesting letter." He ran thumb over the head of his cane. "I've been asked to assure your... stand in up coming events."

"Neutral." He said firmly. "I want nothing to do with the war." Which was, surprisingly true. He didn't want anything to do with the war, he just wanted Tom.

"And your... friends?" He asked with a distasteful lilt on the word.

"Can decide and fend for themselves." Lucius nodded and handed him the envelope.

"What's this?" Malfoy looked away towards Severus.

"Information best not spoken aloud."

Harry tore through the seal and flipped open the note. He recognized the elegant scrawl, only slightly different from the younger Malfoy's. It was about the prophecy. How it lay in the department of mysteries, a department which was run by the unspeakables. There was a timetable for guards, and there was also a back story to how Voldemort came to know a part of the prophecy. Severus Snape had been listening outside the door and reported what he'd heard to his master. He felt his eyes widen, unable to stop the reaction, and looked up into the elder Malfoy's face, fighting to keep from looking at the potions master. What, exactly, was Voldemort playing at in giving Harry Potter this knowledge?

"What am I supposed to do with this information?"

"I'm sure that you would like to know the entirety, and perhaps, given what you know, you'd be interested in obtaining it."

"And what do you get out of it?" The corner of his mouth drew up in a smirk.

"Why, my own enjoyment of course."

"And this _extra_ little tidbit?" Lucius gave a small 'hmm' before his smirk turned into something that had more place at the his master's meeting than in a school full of students.

"There are silencing charms on the door." It seemed to be an unrelated comment, but the room's occupants knew it was a suggestion.

"As enjoyable as that would be, I'm afraid that it would be detrimental to my goals as of now."

"Goals?" Lucius asked mildly.

"Just some plans for my life outside of school. I mean, I can't expect my fame to get me everywhere. Especially in such tenuous times."

"Well, now that business is concluded I must be on my way." Lucius was at the door, with his hand on the knob when Harry spoke again.

"Tell him I send my greetings." The blond felt the professor next to him tense and glanced up to see the surprised look on the darker man's face.

"I will do that."

"Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy."

"Goodbye, Mr. Potter." And then he was gone through the door. Snape shut it behind him, looking as close to horrified as he could be.

"_What_ are you doing? Talking with Malfoy in such a way? Sending greetings to the Dark Lord? Are you trying to get yourself killed or be suspected of joining him?"

"No. I'm trying to ensure my life no matter how little value you place on it. I enjoy living and intend to stay that way for a long time to come."

"Foolish, irrational, arrogant-"

"And it was your 'foolish, irrational, and arrogant' actions that got my parents killed." Snape's mouth snapped shut and he froze.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me." Harry folded his arms, acting every part of the fifteen year old boy. "So, we'll make a deal. You don't say any thing about my conversation with Lucius and I won't tell the _Daily Prophet_ about your part in my parents deaths. Even if you aren't convicted and sent to Azkaban, you'll be lynched in Diagon Alley." This was a risk, but he suspected that the professor would pick his life over telling Dumbledore the truth -much as he had with the vampire side of him.

"You expect me to lie to the headmaster?"

"Your good at it aren't you?" Err... he might have been a little eager and said something he'd not meant to.

"And what, exactly, do you mean to imply by that?" Apparently the professor had picked up on that.

"I know what's on you left arm and I know what position you are in." Dark eyes narrowed at him. "The fact that I'm not asking for more should make you more gracious." The professor sneered at him.

"I'll not be cowed by-"

"Yes, you will, because if you don't, I can't make your life a living hell. You think it's bad now, playing double agent, you haven't seen anything yet. Save yourself some trouble and just clarify that it was ministry business and that nothing was said between us. He handed me the letter, watched me read it, and then left. Simple. Omission isn't really lying anyway." Harry shrugged.

"And you think that you have something to threaten me with? What can a _boy_ do?" The smile Snape received was feral.

"You know, as the famed boy-who-lived there are a lot of people willing to do me favors to get into my good graces. I imagine that some of those people have about the same morals as the Death Eaters. Like I said, take this chance. The price isn't that high."

Severus fought away a growl of frustration. How was it he kept getting backed into a corner lately. First the vampire and now, the brat. He was better than this, so why was damn circumstance working against him. Potter was never supposed to find out his part in his parents deaths, so why the hell did it have to happen now? And why the hell was the brat acting Slytherin enough to use it for his own gains. He was supposed to be a stupid Gryffindor, not a cunning Slytherin. He didn't like this, but now that he was in this position, he had no choice.

"Fine." He hissed. He would get Potter back. "Leave."

"Have a good day, Professor." Harry said jovially as he left.

~..~

Harry let the letter Lucius had given him turn to ash in his hands. He'd already memorized the guard schedule, and wasn't it a coincidence that the earliest convenient time would be tomorrow at the two a.m. shift change. He'd planned on getting around to the prophecy at some point in time, but it hadn't been an immediate concern. With this information, however, and nothing pressing needing to be completed within the next month, it seemed convenient to do so now. He'd need to come up with a suitable plan as he had little doubt that there would be Death Eaters posted to look out for him. Perhaps 'Jasper' should obtain it? He'd decide that before he left, he supposed. A plan wouldn't do much good right now, not until he had the floor plans. A letter to Gringotts for the soul piece wouldn't be remiss either, and perhaps they could be persuaded to locate a map to the ministry - for a price of course

~..~

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A/N: I had originally intended to kill Snape off, imagine my surprise when he just wouldn't die. So instead, he has a new part to play, though I'm not sure what, yet. Thank you to all who left me reviews, and my apologies for taking so long with this chapter, especially as it's so short. It's a bit of a filler, I'm afraid, but I just didn't want to put anything of real worth in this one. Here's to hoping the next will be longer and with a bit more excitement.

_Ralia: I suppose you could think of it as arrogance on Harry's part. He's lived an extremely long time and isn't human himself, so, while he's aware of general human reactions, just assume that he no longer thinks like one. His perspective is a little skewed, and I'm hoping to make that more prominent when he really gets going with the Dark instead of just setting things up. If that isn't what you meant though, can you give me a few specifics? As a general rule I pretty much need some things to hit me upside the head to understand them._


	11. Chapter 11

_**Akin to Chance**_

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_It means that I, like God, do not play with dice and I don't believe in coincidences. _

_~ V : V for Vendetta_

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"Master." Lucius fell into another of those sweeping bows without breaking stride as he approached the desk the Dark Lord was sitting at. He waited patiently for the movement of the quill to stop and Voldemort to acknowledge his presence before he dared to move.

"Lucius. I take it that your trip was successful." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, my lord."

"Tell me."

"There were noticeable changes in his behavior and appearance. The glasses Potter wore are now gone, and from the robes he wore it seemed as if he had better fitting clothes underneath. There is a clear division between him and the other two he was always with. He was moving far more confidently now, and there was no unease apparent in his meeting with me. When I approached him, Dumbledore came hoping to be present to the meeting by Potter's suggestion. The boy looked to me in suggesting that Severus take the post instead of the Headmaster. When asked about his stance in the upcoming confrontation, he declared neutral with no intent on standing with his friends or loved ones. He did, however, seem slightly indecisive when handed the information on the prophecy."

"Indecisive in what way?"

"Regarding the idea of retrieving it, my lord."

"His reaction on discovering that there was a prophecy?"

"None at all. In my opinion he knew that there was one, but has no idea as to the contents of it."

"How interesting." Voldemort looked off to the side in a thoughtful gesture. It was almost a guarantee that it wasn't Dumbledore who told the boy about the prophecy's existence, as the old man would want to keep the boy as close and oblivious as he could, and if he did mention it, then he would have also told the contents of it, if only to keep the boy within the school and not off gallivanting where any of Voldemort's people could find him. So, who could have possibly told Potter? Surely not Severus for his hate and the part he played in the deaths of Potter's parents, and Albus wouldn't have spread it among his own people. This bore some looking into.

"My lord?" Lucius called his attention.

"What is it?"

"Potter asked me to send along his greetings." Voldemort stared at him a moment, blinking crimson snake eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Potter sends his greetings." Lucius' voice was just a bit hesitant this time, and he was waiting for the cruciatus to come flying across the room.

"Potter sends his greetings." Voldemort stated, as if repeating the sentence would wipe away the absolute impossibility of it. There was a short pause and then, "What the hell is that boy thinking?"

~..~

Death Eaters were taking post around the impossibly large room that housed prophecies. The shelves, all lined with crystal balls, seemed endless, and Harry, or Jasper as he was at the moment, was slipping though the shelving with a practiced ease. He'd taken his long grey cloak with him to shroud his form in case he was spotted, though he doubted that he would be. As of now, he was planning on slipping away unnoticed with the prophecy and listening to the contents before returning it to it's designated spot. The Death Eaters would likely assume that Harry hadn't come this night and would fall back to what ever their other plans were until there was a time open for the boy to appear. Harry doubted it was chance that the guard schedule was such either. The Dark side had entirely to much pull to fall to the whims of one department, even if that department was the most mysterious within the ministry.

He came to the appropriate shelf number that was given to him and quickly counted up until where his prophecy sphere was supposed to be. Except... it was wrong. Now, he didn't know a lot about prophecies or how they were stored but he had quickly got in touch with Richard, a vampire who was learning up on such things, to understand a bit about them before he'd came. He was told of the protections on the spheres themselves that would disable anyone who wasn't an authorized unspeakable or the people whom the prophecy was labeled for. This, naturally, was the only security measure. That wasn't what was wrong though. No, what was wrong, was that the crystal ball wasn't glowing as it should be. The spheres, as was imprinted to their design, were supposed to glow either when active or when in the presence of to whom they refer. He pressed his lips into a thin line. His next idea was a bit of a long shot, but...

He adjusted himself to fall back into his Harry Potter persona. Prophecies, he'd heard, could be very fickle things. He wasn't entirely sure whether to take that quiet as literally or if it only meant it's interpretation, but this was the magical world and things like that were thrown out the window when magic got involved. Either way, it didn't matter as the stupid little ball refused to glow. This only meant one of two things, the prophecy was no longer active... or that there was no longer a Harry Potter. It came down to the same conclusion, however, and that was that the prophecy itself was no longer valid. And wasn't _that_ interesting. Hopefully no one would look into that to much.

He caressed the orb just faintly, stirring up the protective magics before pulling away. It was time to go. There was nothing for him here. Perhaps he would appear here as Harry Potter and allow the Death Eaters to witness his presence, but for now there were other things that needed to be done. He slipped away though the darkness of the room and out of the ministry back to the school.

~..~

Hermione was watching him again. He had to admire her attempt to leave him alone, as she was doing quite well. She hadn't approached him or said more than a greeting, but he could tell that it hurt her to do so. He didn't really understand why she clung to him so; perhaps if he'd still been human (or _her_ Harry) he would. Ron was the opposite. He seemed to be entirely unaffected by the ex-friendship. Harry briefly wondered if it was strange that he had expected more from the usually quick tempered red-head. Weasley had always been passionate about such things, and to view this strangely detached side didn't fit in with what he thought he knew.

Ron gently shook her, drawing her attention from Harry and back to the conversation. She turned to them, only half listening. Harry looked her over quickly. Dark circles were forming under her eyes, her already bushy hair seemed more wild then normal, and the gaunt look to her face told him that she had been having many sleepless night. Undoubtedly it was because of her worry, but there was little he could do about it. Hermione shook her head and suddenly stood. She shot a quick glance at him, one he'd seen often enough to recognize instantly. She wanted to talk. No, she was _pleading _for a talk. He gave a minute nod and waited until she'd been gone long enough that no one would think twice when he left.

She'd gone to the library, hidden herself away in the corner they'd often used for private conversations. Of course, with the Slytherins not far off and no privacy charms, private wouldn't be the word to describe it. Even so, he decided to go along with it, knowing that the chance of something that was truly a secret being told was slim, and if she did know such a secret, it would have been for the Harry that no longer existed. They sat silently at the table for a while before Harry decided to break the silence.

"What was it you wanted, Hermione?"

"Harry, I - You just changed so much - It isn't that I don't trust you, but-" Obviously she was having a hard time finding a place to start from. Usually she was so organized and everything she said sounded rehearsed.

"Take a breath and start over." She did as told.

"What really happened to you? People just don't change that much over a single summer, even if you were kidnapped, which I don't believe by the way. You're withdrawn, dismissive, and cruel to everyone, even the teachers. You're dealing with Malfoy who, may I remind you, has a father that works for the psychopath out to kill you. I don't know what to do and no one else seems to care, not even Ron! It's like we were never friends to begin with. Something is going on, but no one is asking and you won't tell, and I'm - I'm at a loss. You were my first friend here. I don't want to lose you over something stupid or worse, something like the Dark Arts."

There was a stress on her last two words. She thought he was practicing, and believed that to be the cause of his behavior. If that was the conclusion she had reached it was amazing that she hadn't gone and turned him in, especially with the newspapers still reporting him as 'a disturbed and unbalanced child'. This was a problem he hadn't really though of. He had expected to be entirely over looked as he usually was - in an emotional/behavioral sense - because that's the way it had always been. People would always hold to certain standards when viewing the world and would only see what they expect to see.

He really had no clue what to say to her, and it would all go far better if he just got in gear and learned to memory charm people. She did bring up a strange point though: why _wasn't_ anyone asking questions. There hadn't even been comments made about a few of his remarks to students and staff. If he had to guess, it was like they were told to avoid him, but why would any one want to do that. Some of the teachers, even if told, wouldn't put up with it. McGonagall specifically, in fact. The only person she would respect enough to follow such direction, and maybe not even then, would be...

Well, that should have been obvious, shouldn't it? What the hell did Dumbledore think he was doing now?

"I really don't know what you're so concerned with. We aren't friends, haven't been since I found out that you were watching me." He sneered at her. "Did I perform well? Did your master give you praises and biscuits for keeping me on an invisible leash?"

"It wasn't like that!" She denied. "We thought we were doing what was best, especially for you. I don't know if you realize it, but you're reckless and don't care about your own life."

"It is _my_ life, and I'll do with it as a please."

"Quit being stubborn!"

"Quit believing you know everything." He hissed. "This is not a perfect world. The answers you need do not always lay in books. If I were to be careless with my life, it does not mean I am suicidal. If I were to charge into a situation, it does not always amount to foolish recklessness. Not everything is black and white, _child_, grow up." He turned away on his heel, his robes sweeping about him in an elegant way.

~..~

An owl was winging it's way across the land looking to find itself in the hands of Lord Malfoy. The letter in it's sharp claws wasn't for him, however, it was for his master. It found the man just as he was leaving his home, preparing to meet with a few others before appearing to the summons that made his arm burn. He looked up as it dropped the note before him, and he caught it as it floated through the air. The envelope was a vivid scarlet that shown brightly even in the dark that had settled with the coming of night. An embossed winged serpent was on the front, it's form and the name below shimmering gold. Lord Voldemort had received a letter, and it soon found place in his hands.

_Dear Tom,_

_I admit that curiosity had gotten the better of me when I looked at the prophecy that concerned yourself and the child. Wasn't I surprised to find it null and pointless. You should look into it._

_~Jasper_

"Rookwood!"

"Yes, my lord?" The man stepped forward.

"Find out all you can about voided prophecies, and look into on specifically. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord. It shall be done."

~..~

Harry was sitting with the Slytherins for breakfast. It had garnered a hefty amount of attention, especially as none of the Slytherins objected to it. They may have had a deal, but snakes didn't socialize with the lions. He could feel the eyes on him as he quietly conversed with Draco and Pansy, but two sets seemed intent on burning a hole in the side of his skull. Snape's reaction was expected. The man's extreme dislike of him left the professor intolerant of any of his actions. The second, while not wholly unexpected, was surprising in it's intensity. Dumbledore was starting to be a bit more open in his suspicions, and that meant that he would soon have to be far more careful from now on. He'd gotten away with so much because he hadn't been being watched closely. That was going to change, soon if the headmaster could come up with an excuse soon enough.

"Dumbledore is glaring at you." Theodore observed.

"Really? Full on glaring?"

"As much of a glare as he is capable of." Blaise stated. "What did you do, piss on his lemon drops?"

"Now, isn't that an idea." He mused. "But no. I haven't done any thing. I think that's what the problem is."

"What do you mean?" Nott asked.

"I'm not acting how I'm supposed to. Even you must have noticed that I'm not as... light, shall we say."

"He should have seen it coming." Draco said before he took another bite of his toast. "He couldn't have expected you to follow his every whim like a good little doggy. Although, if you had asked me that last year, I would have claimed you to do just that."

"Such a vote of confidence."

"Yes, well, you were his favorite little lion, weren't you, Potter." Harry sighed.

"I supposed that I can't disagree."

"My father mentioned wanting you to come over for the holidays." All of the Slytherins around them seemed to still.

"Does he really expect me to take him up on the offer?" Harry asked incredulously. Draco shrugged.

"I'm not really sure that it was him who was asking." They all knew who Draco meant. Voldemort told Lucius to invite him, and Lucius had no other choice then to obey. Harry suspected that it either had to do with the prophecy, or that Voldemort was going to cover all of his bases and off him any way.

"I'll... think about it." It was the Slytherins' turn to look incredulous.

"You're insane."

"So they tell me." He smiled wryly.

The owls swooped in with the morning post, and the students all looked up for their own birds for any messages they might have. Hedwig, easy to spot with her bright white feathers, was carrying a package. She dropped it on the table in front of him in a fly by, quickly following the other owls back out the window and to the owlery. Harry undid the twine holding the brown paper closed and opened the package. Inside was a recognizable wooded box. It was what he'd been waiting for. A few mumbled and hissed spells, a drop of blood, and the lock on the box clicked and the lid opened. Fifty years ago he'd placed a horcrux inside. It had been nothing special, just a trinket crafted from magic conductible metal.

No one had told him that magic conductible metal would often change according to the magic used on it however. It was still a celtic knot, but the slim, brass colored piece no longer looked as such. It was now a pair of snakes, one a gleaming silver, the other a shimmering onyx. The wove and twisted around each other, both detailed with frightening realism. He brought it closer to his face to examine, ignoring the looks from those around him. And then... they moved.

"Blood hell!" He hissed, immediately drawing his face back.

"It must have cost a fortune to get that enchanted." Pansy said, causing him to look up at her.

"What?"

"The enchantments to make it move. Not to mention that it had to be a custom piece. Where did you get it?"

"It was willed to me. Some one else had it done." He slipped the cord over his head and hid the pendant in his shirt. Was it's change and animation an effect of it being a horcrux? He wish he could read up on it.

~..~

Harry had decided to quit quidditch some time ago. The decision hadn't even warranted much thought or attention, though, with the fit Ron threw, one might expect it to make front page news. It had given him plenty of free time to move about and explore some of the lesser known areas of the castle. After all, everyone -even the headmaster- went to the games. It was also a good time to slip away in one of the passages to Hogsmead to meet up with one of his vampires. Richard, the one who knew about prophecies, was waiting in the cellar of Honeydukes for him.

"My Lord."

"Have you found anything out?"

"Yes. By blood you are still Harry Potter, but your magical identity has changed enough that you won't be identified as him."

"What does that mean in my context?"

"You are, for the most part, untraceable by the ministry unless you use your wand."

"Either of them?"

"You have two?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, none of my business. How long have they been in use?"

"One for about fifty years, and the other for around five."

"Ollivander?"

"Yes."

"There shouldn't be any problem with the first. The Trace is on a timed basis. The second, I wouldn't risk it. Your magic may have overwhelmed it, but I wouldn't chance it until the time limit is up."

"Now, in context to the prophecy."

"It's entirely void, which should be impossible."

"How so?"

"There's a debate in the Department of Mysteries on whether all prophecies are completed or not, but all agree that once one has been started, it should be impossible to stop."

"Why is that? Aren't they self-fulfilling?"

"I think the Unspeakables described it as a catalyst action, but your's makes a bit more sense. Still, once it starts, it's supposed to be like an unstoppable force."

"I guess that it isn't."

"I and the rest of the department are well aware. Apparently one pointed it out and sent every one of them into an uproar. I've recently learned that you have a habit of defying the natural order of things." He gave Harry a flat look.

"What can I say, I'm a special kind of guy."

"And modest too."

"Tom always used to say so." He smiled. "Keep me updated on any Death Eaters or if Voldemort wanders in, will you?"

"Of course."

"Have you heard anything from the others?"

"We don't have anyone working the DMLE."

"Why not?"

"They do regular scans for 'dark creatures'. Some one is trying to put one of the higher ups under though."

"Not imperius, I hope."

"We aren't wizards, my Lord, and you of all of us must realize how... _enthralling_ vampires can be."

"I suppose I do. Keep Jean-Claude updated. I'll be visiting on the Hols."

"Goodbye, my Lord."

~..~

"Here." A card was flicked onto the table in a careless motion. Harry looked up at Draco before reaching out to take the card.

"What's this?"

"Invitation. Be there, or don't, I don't care." He spun away and was quickly gone from the library. Harry looked down at it. It was an invitation to a party, one of the few the Slytherin's hosted. It wasn't often that they invited some one from another house, and it was never that they invited lions. Two weeks from now, at 7 p.m. in the classroom with the door hidden behind the tapestry of the Slytherin house on the fourth floor.

Harry tapped the edge of it on the table top in thought. Slytherin parties were always rumored to be the best, and it had been some time since he'd really enjoyed himself. Outside of Tom, the past few years were relatively tedious and boring. His mind was always to focused on something to be allowed to wander to far, lest he get lost in his musings and the world passed him by, and there were most certainly a lot of things to muse on.

~..~

Harry felt it sad at how easily the Dark Lord's manor was slipped into. Then again, he supposed that the wards did their job in keeping other wizards -without invitation- on the opposite side and unable to find him. He would have found it prudent to reinforce the wards with his own to keep out other vampires, but as the vampires fell to his command, he saw it as a pointless venture. His hair grew in length and his features paled to that of his natural coloring as he stepped through the front door. A heavy winter cloak stretched over his shoulders, the hood left down to let any passing Death Eaters see his face. Any one who walked in to His home so boldly could be nothing else than a guest, and one did not interfere with the Dark Lord's guests.

Voldemort was absent from his throne room, the meeting room, and the office he had occupied before. He had to search the man out by calling to the bracelet that the man wore at his wrist. It responded with a resonating note that lead him to what could only be called a sitting room. Voldemort had several tomes around him and one in his hand that he was slowly flipping through. They were Dark Arts books, all of which he recognized and most of them he owned. Stashed away of course. He didn't realize he'd just been standing there, watching, until the other spoke to him.

"Are you just going to stand there, Cole, or are you going to come in?" He sounded far more contented then when they'd last spoke. He slipped off the cloak as he moved to sit on a chair across from Voldemort.

"You are in a good mood tonight." The Dark Lord took on a musing look.

"I suppose I am." He agreed, but still didn't look up from the book he held.

"May I ask why that would be?"

"A great many reasons, that including the information you have sent to me recently."

"Was the boy really such a nuisance?"

"You have no bloody idea." Jasper smiled at him, just an upturn in the corner of his lips. He'd missed having these kinds of conversations. There was an ease in it that he craved. He hadn't expected for it to surface so easily, and maybe it had only because of the mood, but he enjoyed it none the less.

"How goes your planning?"

"Well enough. I've noticed some new features in the wards around Hogwarts." He said casually.

"Ah, I might have paid a visit to one of your Death Eaters." There was a feral light in his eyes, and Voldemort took some amusement from the look.

"Will you be tormenting all of my followers?"

"No, no. They're your toys, I just wanted to meet the man who'd taken post in Dumbledore's view."

"And what did you find?" Jasper looked thoughtful for a moment. Voldemort wouldn't have asked if he hadn't his own suspicions of the man already.

"That he is quite the Slytherin. I suspect that there are only a few other people more suited to the task of Head of House."

"Yes, he is that." Voldemort agreed.

"I've noticed that you have become quite the collector over the years." He looked pointedly at the rare books that surrounded him.

"I have. My followers always find such delightful gifts to curry my favor."

"Does it work?" Voldemort cast him a suspicious look.

"Why?" Jasper slid off his chair with a strange boneless grace.

"There is, perhaps, someone's favor _I _would like to curry."

"I've already given you my decision on this." He turned to look at the fire. "Unless you are ready to give me those answers." Jasper sighed.

"I have a few questions of my own before I can tell you."

"Do ask then."

"Have you looked into the prophecy?"

"Some one is looking into it for me."

"I took Potter to look at it." It was said in an off handed tone, and there was instant rage in Voldemort's eyes.

_"What?"_ He hissed.

"He didn't hear it. Once I realized it was null, we were gone." He wondered, for a moment, if it was strange to see himself as two separate people. "I brought him so that I may learn what it said."

"So he doesn't know the contents? I would have thought Dumbledore had told him." Jasper gave a shrug, knowing that any answer would probably be suspicious. "You're questions?"

"Most have to do with Potter."

"Ask them." It was an order.

"If the prophecy is void, would you allow him to live?"

"No." Ouch... okay, different approach.

"And if he were to side with you?"

"If I could fit a slave collar around his skinny little neck." Red eyes flashed. It didn't look like Jasper was going to admit to being Harry any time soon.

"Is all this animosity because he cast you out of your body for a decade?" The hiss the man gave sounded more like an angry cat than a serpent.

"You told me before that you had no interest in the boy, this conversation leads me to believe otherwise." He accused.

"His past and my future are connected, Tom. We shall share the same fate unless I end his life by my own hand, but I've no wish to kill him." Yes, it was not only strange to see yourself as two different individuals, it was bordering on a mental disorder. He was _so_ going to need counseling after this was all over. Perhaps if he took Tom and his merry band of murderers they could get a group discount. Merlin knew that they all had problems.

"You are trying to protect him."

"As much as I am able to, yes." And when Voldemort met gold eyes, they were hollow, empty things, as if waiting for a harsh response to a question that hadn't been asked. It took a moment for Voldemort to realize that there _had_ been a question. If he wished it, Jasper would kill Harry Potter, and he would do it because he had loved Tom Riddle.

"You are very foolish."

"I don't deny it." He answered softly.

"You would slay him on my word?" Jasper slid to his knees before the Dark Lord and looked up into those crimson eyes. He would do it, if Tom asked. He would kill his former self entirely, if he could just be with the man before him.

"I would lay the world at your feet if you would but ask it of me." And he would. It appeared to be the right thing to say because Voldemort had drawn him up from the floor, the vampire sliding up his sitting form with ease, and rewarded him in a manner strictly reserved for only one person. Jasper fell into the kiss and allowed himself to be devoured by the dark domination that Tom had developed over the many years.

~..~

The Slytherin party wasn't something that Harry was familiar with operating inside of Hogwarts. Fifty years ago, they hadn't had such parties, and so it was a surprise. The Gryffindor's were a rambunctious bunch, and the evening was more often fill with slurred yells than anything else. Slytherin was more like a club. Plush furniture spread around the room with occupants sprawled across their surfaces. The music was just loud enough to cover the whispered conversations in the corners, and flashes of light in time with the music were focused in the very center to designate a dance floor. He was the only Gryffindor present. Hell, he was the only one from another house present. Blaise's waving hand drew him over to a long deep green couch.

"All your parties like this?" Harry asked as he took a drink up from the small table in front of him.

"No. This is one of the gentler ones. We more often leave the castle to head down to Leisure Alley and take over one of the clubs there. I know that the Malfoy's own at least three."

"Speaking of Malfoys, where is Draco."

"He's off sulking."

"Why?"

"I think it is because he had to invite you." Blaise shrugged.

"Me?"

"Mr. Malfoy really wants you to show up for the holidays."

"I don't see that happening." Harry sighed. "Just because I'm neutral now doesn't mean that Voldemort wants my head on a plate any less. It just means that I bought myself until he wipes out everyone else first."

"You're an optimist, aren't you."

"How could you tell?"

"There's Draco." He tipped his glass in the direction.

The blond was sweeping across the dance floor with his partner, looking more like a muggle in the way he moved than a traditional wizard. An older Slytherin girl was pressed to the front of him, and they moved together easily with the beat of the music. His hands held tightly around her thin waist, keeping them together as the pace jumped.

"I don't think I like the look of that smile."

"No worries, Blaise, you aren't my target." He got to his feet and worked his way through the crowd of students. This was the prefect opportunity to screw with the boys head, and while he doubted that Malfoy would be appreciative of his efforts, it didn't lessen the entertainment factor. He sidled up behind the blond, slipping in when the song changed. Malfoy didn't falter in his moves. Harry's lips curled, exposing the edge of a single fang. His hands ran along slim hips, explored up a small waist, before running back down to caress firm thighs. Pale arms jump up to wrap around his neck from behind to hold him close. Harry leaned close, mouth next his ear.

"Great party Malfoy." Draco tried to leap from the hold, but the vampire's natural strength held him firmly in place.

"Salazar Potter! What the hell was that for!"

"You so easy to tease." Harry hissed. "Any more _requests_ from your father?"

"No, but you'll be getting an official invitation soon, and if you do decide to come, at least buy some proper clothes."

"What makes you think that I don't have proper clothes?" Draco spun in the hold.

"Look at how your dressed. I person with top quality wouldn't be caught dead wearing _that_."

"But wouldn't you say that it is far more cunning to let people see what they expect to see?"

"What are you getting at? And let go of me before I decide to use some of the darker curses I know on you."

"You don't like it when I touch you?" He asked mockingly as he raised a hand and ran it over a pale cheek.

Draco's hand snapped up, locking around his wrist, and just like that, his ring's protection was suddenly broken. His dark wrapped around the blond instantly, searching through him finding the blonde's own darkness and ripping it to the surface. A sound, something between a scream and a moan, was drug passed his lips as his body convulsed, and Harry's arms were the only thing holding him up as his legs gave. Harry spat curses in several languages as he drug the other off the floor as quickly as he could without drawing attention to either of them. He tempered his dark as he laid the blond out on the love seat. Blaise was instantly by his side.

"What happened?" Harry didn't answer, instead trying to conceal his own energy enough to quit drawing on Draco's. Malfoy gave a gasping breath and bolted into an upright position before turning accusing eyes on the other.

"What was that?" He hissed angrily. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"I think you know." Harry answered easily. "I mean, you do live with your father, and you are descended from one of the most well known dark families."

"How are you able to do that? Even my father can't reach out with his." Harry shrugged.

"What's going on?" Blaise asked.

"It come naturally to me."

"Don't screw with me, Potter. That much... and so strong... it doesn't just hide and suddenly lash out. I should have been able to pick up on it. _Especially me_."

"And you likely would have, had I not take precautions. It's not the students I'm worried about, little Malfoy."

"The Headmaster... Severus." He said in realization.

"McGonagall has an aptitude to sense it as well, though only by direct contact."

"How do you know that?"

"Can some one tell me what the hell is going on?" Blaise suddenly snarled. He was ignored again.

"I know quite a few interesting things about some of the teachers." Harry gave a smirk. "But that isn't what we're talking about."

"How did you hide it?"

"That's a secret, but I can tell you that it binds it to my skin until certain circumstances are met. And no, I won't tell you what those are."

"Will some one please answer me!" Both turned to look at the heavy boy in slight surprise.

"Potter isn't as neutral as we thought he was or he claimed to be."

"That's not fair. I'm neutral." Malfoy sneered at him. "Hey, just because my magic tastes dark doesn't mean I'm on your side."

"Don't tell me you really believe that drivel. Like I said, your too dark. The kind of dark that you only get from dark magic practice."

"Earth magics, Malfoy. It's not all known as dark."

"Dark enough." Harry gave another shrug.

"I'd ask you not to tell anyone-"

"But you know that would be pointless." Draco finished for him.

"So, where does that leave us?" His wand was in his hand, hidden from the rest of the room, and he had a strong, almost painful, grip on Blaise to keep him quiet. "As I see it, we have two options. You agree to keep your mouth shut to anyone that is within this school, and anyone who has connections to the paper, or you'll be my first attempt at a memory charm."

"I think we can come to an accord." There was a sudden hesitance in his voice, and Harry gave him a pleased smile.

"You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that." Particularly as he _still_ had yet to learn how to use a memory charm. The furthest he'd gotten was the incantation.

~..~

A/N:_ Thanks to all my reviewers once again, without your input, Voldemort's response to Harry's greetings wouldn't have even made the chapter. Though, because of that, I hadn't had an idea set up and ready so... well, my brain was a little dead. As for Luna, one of you pointed out that she's commonly used as a 'Seer', but I'm having her be something a little different in this story. It all works into the whole side plot with the Vampires. So no worries. It only _seems_ cliché!_

_Samira Granger: Honestly, I'm not to sure. I know in general how I want the story to pan out and because Harry was going to be with him no matter his looks, I hadn't thought about it much. I've read many stories where he has looked like 'Tom' again, and maybe it's just me or the way they were written, but they seemed a little shallow. I've tried to be very careful in writing their relationship, and I've had to stay my hand more often than not to keep from just throwing them together, so I guess that in all that I had just written 'looks' off as inconsequential to the grand scheme. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. I likely would have gotten all the way there only to stop writing, stare at my screen, and wonder what the hell I was going to do. _

_Ralia: You're right about him creating opposition later, but I really need something to help keep my concentration. You're also right about my rushing of Luna and Neville's scene. I couldn't think of a way to bring them into it that wasn't slow and tedious. So I figured I's just jump in with that and then move slowly later on._

_Persiangulf7: I would have used more historical facts, but that would mean far more in depth research than I had wanted to do for a fanfiction, so I'd tried to stay as -generic- as possible in what I wrote while still giving some historical information._

_GGhanima: I'm horrible at the 'to' and 'too' thing, and it never really occurs to me that when I'm writing I should use a different one since I'm so eager to get my idea down on the page before it's gone. I'm trying to get better, but as an overall thing I have to say that not doing that is going to be a hard habit to break. Especially since I don't use a beta to go over my story._


	12. Chapter 12

_**A Break in the Tedious**_

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_So tedious is this day_

_As is the night before some festival_

_~Juliet (Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare)_

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"Mr. Potter." McGonagall's voice called him back into the transfiguration classroom. "The Headmaster asked me to speak to you regarding you plans for the holidays."

"What about them, Professor?" He didn't like this.

"It has come to attention that you planned on leaving. I've been requested to ask you on whether or not you are going to your relatives house." Her pinched face said that she found asking her student personal information distasteful. Harry gritted his teeth.

"No, I wasn't." Her lips pulled into a tight line, and he knew that he wasn't going to like what she was going to say next.

"I'm to inform you that, as you not be returning to their house, that you are to stay within the school for your holidays." It was Harry's lips that pulled into a thin line this time.

"I understand Professor. If you'll excuse me, I have to inform some of my friends of the changes." She nodded at him and he swept away.

His quick stride ate up the distance from the classroom to the owlery, and he was quick in penning a note to Jean-Claude of the change in plans. He would have to inform Snape as well and have the man stay in the castle so that he could keep an eye on him. Newborns are often crazed in their first bloodlust, and while Harry didn't really care about the students, it would be suspicious if they got eaten. He would have to devise a way to sneak a vampire through one of the secret passages, and a way to allow Snape through the wards of the school. He wanted to keep the Headmaster as uninformed as possible, and a rabid vampire would kind of tip him off. Harry sighed as he gave the envelope to his owl. He would have to brew the bloodlust potion again. Hopefully the blood grass still grew in the same places and his dungeon room was still heavily warded.

~..~

Dumbledore pulled at his beard gently in thought. The boy was going to stay within the school over the holidays. He'd made sure of that. It was unfortunate that he hadn't been monitoring the owl post as he had earlier in the year as an owl had been sent out for some unknown destination. Minerva had mentioned friends, but Albus was unsure exactly what that meant. As far as he knew, Harry had no other friends than those at Hogwarts, and he'd had little opportunity to make more. He was an isolated child, as he was supposed to be. So, in that line of thought, who could that owl had possibly been for. It left an uneasy feeling in his chest, and that along with his suspicions regarding Harry's state of mind made for an interesting kind of paranoia.

He knew he needed more adept watchers to tail the boy. He'd lost other students and even the portraits with a practiced ease that shouldn't have been possible in one so young. He should call in some of the more experienced of the order, or those that didn't have much to do in regards to their duty. Nymphadora perhaps, she was able to blend in with her unusual talents. And Kingsley too, at least for the duration that he could get him away without others being suspicious. It would take some work, put it would be worth it.

~..~

"Good evening, Severus." The stirrer in the professor's hand clanged loudly against the cauldron as the man jerked in surprise. Golden eyes stared at him from a few feet away.

"How did you get in here?" His personal labs were warded against everyone, including the Headmaster. Not only would the vampire need a password to open the portrait guarding the door, he would need the deactivation phrases to cross the threshold. That the vampire did so without such information made him wonder just how powerful he really was.

"Through the door, of course." He hopped up onto the lab table, ignoring the potions master's flinch at the action. "There has been a change in plans, my dear professor. You'll be staying within the castle for the holidays. I'll be bringing one of my associates to begin the process."

"You would endanger children?"

"Of course not. While I care not for them, I won't allow you to run rampant and kill them all. I'll have a... close friend of mine to keep an eye on you and provide you with special potions. I don't doubt you'll discover their identity quickly enough, but you will not mention mine or your loyalties." Severus' eyes narrowed.

"If you've no doubt that I'll discover them, why not just inform me who they are?"

"Ah, but you are not bound to us and ours. You, no matter you claims, find your loyalty in Dumbledore. I know not why, and nor do I care. The point will be moot once you're turned. I shall see you soon, Severus." He faded through the shadows, escaping without a trace once again.

Once the vampire was gone, he turned back to the cauldron and lowered the heat. It was a poison, and it was meant for him. By drinking it, it would make his blood toxic to a variety of species, vampires, werewolves, and several other dark classed creatures. Unfortunately, not everyone could use it. The ingredients would kill a human, shutting down the organs one by one or rupturing blood vessels and causing them to bleed to death. He was only protected because of the small amount of vampire venom the circulated his system. It would protect him from the harsh side effects of the potion.

~..~

"Thank you for coming Nymphadora." Albus greeted her.

"It's Tonks." She muttered.

"Lemon drop?" He ignored her comment.

"No." She sighed. He would never call her by her surname would he.

"On to other matter then." He stated cheerfully. "I need you to keep an eye on, and follow Harry about his school day."

"Is something going on?" She asked worriedly. She may not know the boy that well, or at all really, but she didn't want anything to happen to him.

"No, no." He placated. "But he has been displaying some disturbing behavior, along with disappearing into the depths of the castle where no one can find him for hours. Most students and teachers won't participate in looking for him any longer. When Harry wants to hide, he can stay hidden." He didn't voice his suspicions of the boy leaving the castle as of yet, but he would place wards over the underground passages at the end of the holidays.

"So you want me to tail him?"

"If you would."

"What about my job as an Auror?"

"You'll continue that as normal, and I'll have some one else take to following him when you're gone."

"Well... Okay, I don't mind." She shuffled uneasily for a moment. It didn't take a genius to realize that the Headmaster wasn't being completely honest with her, but what could she do? If she pressed him for answers, he didn't have to tell her. It was one of the perks of being the leader. No one questions you, or was allowed to in some cases.

"When will you be able to start my dear?"

"Err... tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Will I be going undercover as a student?"

"Yes, that would be best. Don't worry much about attending classes. Just eat with the students and appear in Hogsmead, the library, and the like. I'll be sure to have the professors divert other student's attention from you."

"What house should I be in?"

"We'll put you into Gryffindor. They tend not to ask to many questions, and if they do, send them on to Minerva." There was a short silence in which she shifted uncomfortably again before asking a question.

"Sir, there isn't... anything I should worry about, is there? I mean... no real problems with Harry or anybody, right?"

"No, no. Of course not." He gave her one of those grandfatherly smiles and sent her on her way.

Once she was gone he folded his hands in front of him and looked out at the room with a grim countenance. Hopefully she was up to the task, and she wouldn't ask to many questions. If word got around that he was having Harry followed through the school, dissention could possibly develop between members of the order, and with Voldemort back and gaining allies, a split in forces was the last thing he wanted. Fawkes cooed softly, sadly, at him. The phoenix knew something was coming, he realized, but there was no way for the magical avian to convey what was going to happen.

"Will it really be so bad, my friend?" The bird didn't even trill a reply.

~..~

It turned out that blood grass did not grow in the same places as it had fifty years ago. In fact, it took three extra hours to find a single patch, and that grew deep enough in the forest that there were three werewolf packs to watch out for. Mud climbed up the legs of his pants, and blood spattered across his shirt from an animal he had no choice but to kill, and while he wasn't worn out, he really just wanted to get back to the castle instead of tromping through the woods. Unfortunately, he needed at least twenty more shoots of the grass, and that meant going deeper still. He'd be into the valley soon, the one where the unicorns had fled to when Voldemort/Quirell had taken residence at the school.

"What are-" Who ever had snuck up on him didn't have time to finish their question, because Harry was casting spells at them. They dove behind a tree after making an embarrassing 'peep' and dove beneath several rays of light. "Wait! Wait! Quit firing at me!" An unmistakable head full of red hair popped out from behind a tree to look at him warily.

"Damien? What are you doing here?" Upon seeing that there were no more curses flying in his direction, Damien stepped out from behind the safety of the tree.

"Jean-Claude decided that I would be the best one to turn the potions teacher, my lord."

"And he didn't think to inform me of it?"

"You should have been getting a letter soon." As he spoke Hedwig flew in and landed on Harry's shoulder.

"And then what? You planned to hide out in the forest for over a week?"

"I may have neglected to mention another of my talents, my lord." The way it was said had one of Harry's eyebrows rising in curiosity. "I am a metamophagus." And with that, his flaming red hair turned an inky shade of black. "Jean-Claude thought that you could use some vacation time with your Lord Voldemort." And then another Harry Potter was standing across from him. The real Harry was momentarily stunned.

"Well, I... don't see why not."

"Is there any behavior I should be aware of?" Still in a state of shock, Harry just rattled off things to know. Things about how he wasn't sociable, he spent more time with Slytherins, his respect for the teachers was barely there and nonexistent for his peers. He was a loner, and he made it a point to disappear often.

"What are you going to do about feeding?" Damien gave him a curious look.

"In a highly magical environment, like Hogwarts, the need for blood is substituted by magic. Except for newborns, they need blood."

"That makes a lot of sense. I'd just decided to not question my good fortune." Damien gave an understanding nod. "Do you know how to make the bloodlust suppressant potion?"

"The old one or the new one?"

"Err... the one that uses blood grass, white root, and boomslang skin."

"Boomslang?"

"It was something else originally, but I needed the replication qualities and it was easy to get."

"It's a restricted item now." He pointed out.

"I already have a store of it tucked away. Hmm... I'll need to show you how to get into my lab. You _can_ make it, right?"

"Yes. Do you have all the blood grass you need?"

"No, I was heading down into the valley to see if there was any there."

"I can help." Damien offered. "Do you have an extra harvesting dagger?" He was tossed one and both went down into the valley.

It was another hour before they could return to the castle plus an extra ten minutes trying to figure out a way to get Damian past the vampire wards. The best solution was, surprisingly, the most obvious and least thought of. The red head had to be invited onto the property by some one who had access to the inside. Theoretically, that meant that he could invite the whole vampire population. He wouldn't of course, but the scene that played across his mind when he thought of it was amusing. Harry disabled his own wards on his potions lab and put up several vampire wards so that only a vampire could pass through. It was as he was turning to leave another thought occurred to him.

"You might end up with some people following you. Don't hurt them, but don't do anything suspicious either. If worst comes to worse, just wander around for a few hours. The paintings spy, so don't do anything obvious in front of them. I think that's all. I'll see you in the beginning of the holidays." He nodded to his look-alike and left.

~..~

Voldemort was meeting his Death Eaters. He sat tall in his throne, his polished Yew wand rolling between his fingers as he listened to a report from one of his lesser. Judging by the look on the man's face, he wasn't happy with what he was hearing. He, as Jasper, hung to the side of the room, lurking in the shadows. He didn't want to interrupt the meeting, but he was trying to come up with a way to alert the other to his presence in the room.

"What of the situation in the ministry?" Voldemort hissed, looking at Lucius Malfoy. The blond stepped forward to the center of the floor.

"The one controlling the encroachers is efficient and talented. As before, all the new transfers are dark and while they don't seem to share your ideals my Lord, they appear to be helping at the behest of whoever they follow. I suspect something a bit deeper than the obvious. It seems that, as for now, they are just observers and information gatherers."

"Keep an eye on them. I want to know what their hiding. Find out who their master is as well. I don't want any surprises, Lucius." His head suddenly snapped up and crimson eyes scanned the room. Jasper reached out briefly with his dark, caressing Voldemort's just enough to let him know who it was that was hidden. _"Cole."_ He hissed. _"Come here."_

Jasper stepped from the shadows, and immediately wands were drawn on him. He paid no heed to them as he approached Voldemort.

_"What do you know about this?"_

_"They are vampires. Ordered to do so at the request of Lord Anguis."_ Many of the Death Eaters shifted in fear. Usually when their Lord started hissing, it meant nothing good for them.

_"And this Lord Anguis?"_

_"One of the vampire lords. He poses no threat to you and your cause, and will likely help when it benefits him."_

_"And does this Lord use a winged serpent as his image?"_ He questioned, raising a scarlet envelope that seemed to come from no where.

_"I belong to the line and so his image is my own."_ It was amazing how many half truths it was possible to tell all the while not lying.

"Why are you here?" Voldemort nearly sighed out but, upon remembering his followers, restrained himself.

"I've got some free time. I've decided to spend it with the resident Dark Lord." He slipped off his cloak and folded it over his arm.

"You presume quite a bit, Jasper." The vampire's eyes were the only thing that conveyed his humor, but he didn't make a noise or a move. "Get out." He glanced at the Death Eaters, all of whom quickly left. Jasper brushed stray hair away from his face as he approached the throne and he took a kneeling position similar to the last time.

"I want to know what has happened over the many years I was gone. What happened to _you_." He reached up a hand to touch his cheek, but his wrist was caught in a strong grip. Jasper sighed and pulled his hand back.

"Appear before me tomorrow, during the next meeting. We shall see how far your commitment goes."

"I can't be marked, Tom."

"Quit using that filthy muggle name." He spat. Jasper was instantly on his feet, hands braced on the back of the chair on either side of his head.

"There is nothing wrong with your name, _Tom_. Is it muggle just because you don't share the name of a star, like the Black family or because you weren't named after some pompous pillock who every one thought did something great? You are you, and that should be enough. What is it you are trying to hide? That you're a half-blood? What is it-" Voldemort's hand wrapping around his throat cut off his continued rant. He snarled at the vampire, pushing him up and away before getting enough leverage to throw him to the floor.

"Crucio." His lips twisted into a sneer. "I'm not some student any longer, Cole, and I'll not tolerate such disrespect." Jasper didn't cry out, but he couldn't stop the convulsions of his body as the curse ripped through it.

He flared his magic, shredding the curse as he rolled away and got to his feet. His wand was in his hand, and he took a dueling position. Fire came speeding toward him, it's serpent form launching itself with bared fangs. Jasper sped across the room, dodging the flames and casting his own curses back. A reductor caught the edge of his hip, spinning him around enough so that his cutting curse sliced open Voldemort's upper arm. The Dark Lord hissed and chained several curses together. Jasper avoided the first two, but the third hit him in the chest and sent him to the floor shrieking. Fire jumped to life in his hand and he lashed out towards Voldemort, the whip searing across his torso.

"Learned a new trick, have we?" Jasper swore at him in Arabic. "I don't suffer fools, Cole, and you, are a fool."

"You forgot something, _Tom_." He bit out through the pain.

"And what is that?" He asked mockingly, raising his wand for another, final curse.

"I'm not a human." The shadows pulled him into the floor, and before Voldemort could even think on the disappearance, he was being held in a tight grip with his arms locked at his sides and his wand thrown from him. Jasper was shorter than Tom, and he could comfortably rest his head between the larger man's shoulder blades. "I didn't come here to fight you. I only wanted what used to be." His dark gave a tentative flick, and he felt the nearly nonexistent shiver race up Voldemort's spine. "It's all I want."

The tenseness in Voldemort's muscles seemed to fade slowly, and Jasper released his hold. He turned to face the vampire and captured a lock of dark hair in his fingers.

"The past is just that, Jasper. Why do you keep chasing it? That boy you knew is dead, and he's been dead for a long time."

"Then let me get to know the piece of him that survived."

"I'll allow you a guest room. The plans for tomorrow still stand." He turned and swept away.

~..~

"Who are you?"

"Mother of the Night girl! Don't sneak up on a bloke like that." His hand was clutched at his chest and he was sure that if his heart had been beating it would have stopped. "And what do you mean 'who am I', I'm Harry." He answered her question, a litter unnerved by the distant blue eyes.

"I'm Luna, but you're not Harry. Who are you?"

"Err... well, you see, it's supposed to be a secret." He ran a hand though his hair, attempting to think of a way to get out of this particular bind. His Lord hadn't mentioned creepy blond kids that just_ knew_ things.

"You work for Harry?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Well, that's okay then. Goodnight, Mr. Vampire whose name I don't know." She turned and left down the hall.

"That was disturbing." He muttered as he continued down the hall to the lab where he was brewing the potion.

~..~

The next Death Eater meeting had not taken place inside the manor as it had all the other times Jasper had appeared. It was large and surrounded by a copse of trees to one side and sheer rock face on the other. It would have been a bad position to get caught in, as there wasn't a way to retreat if aurors suddenly stormed the area, but this location hadn't been known to anyone before hand aside from Voldemort himself so there was little risk of them being attacked here. The Death Eaters formed up a half circle in front of Voldemort, and Jasper took a stand just off to the side but still among them.

"My faithful, tonight we bring others among us to join in our glorious cause and expand to greater numbers." There were murmurs of excitement within the black robed crowd. "The first of you, step forward."

The person was unidentifiable with a black hood pulled so low over his face that only their mouth could be distinguished.

"And who speaks for you in this circle?"

"I do, my Lord." Another stepped up, just behind the first. Jasper didn't know this man, but it seemed as if he were one of the elder Death Eaters. Not inner circle, but he'd likely been there for the first rise. Voldemort crooked his finger at one of the other Death Eaters, and it took no effort to recognize the cultured voice of Lucius Malfoy. The blond pulled his wand and leveled it at the recruit's throat.

"It is better that you should fall to a curse from my wand then come among us with disloyalty and unfaithfulness in your heart. How do you enter?"

"With absolute devotion and perfect trust." The hooded one answered solemnly. He sounded young, as if he were not long out of school.

"Step forward." The recruit took another step forward so that the polished wood of Malfoy's wand was pressed in to the flesh of his neck. "Do you swear to up hold our ideals and beliefs, to never betray, and to hold honesty within this circle, by blood, wand, and magic do you so swear?"

"By blood, wand, and magic, I so swear."

"Do you so swear, that your Lord's word shall be held above any other, and that you shall heed his commands with all of your ability?"

"By blood, wand, and magic, I so swear."

"Then I ask you to prove yourself, your loyalty, your faith, and your obedience. What say you?"

"By my Lord's command."

"Know that if you fail, your life shall be forfeit."

"My life belongs to my Lord, to take and allow at whim." Another hand gesture from Voldemort had two more Death Eaters coming from the back of the group with a man held between them. He sported only a split lip and a heavy limp in one leg, but otherwise appeared to be in good health. Jasper doubted that it would last for long. He was forced to kneel on the ground, directly behind where Lucius stood. The blond dropped his wand from the recruits throat and moved off to the side.

"Your first command, my follower, is to torture this man. Show us that with the acts you commit here, tonight, that you truly belong and believe in what we stand for."

"At my Lord's will."

"Begin." The Dark Lord hissed, watching avidly.

The man's screams echoed of the rock face, and the sharp cracks of bones breaking sounded like gunfire within the quiet of the group. Lacerations opened on the skin, hundred of little cuts that were deep enough to hurt and bleed, but not enough to kill. The wounds were cauterized one by one, filling the clearing with the scent of burning flesh, and all the while the man hadn't stopped screaming. Torture curses, one's that Jasper only knew the muggle equivalent to, were used in such quick succession that he almost wasn't sure what the man was shrieking from. Quickly, he was reduced to nothing more than a huddling mass on the ground, covered in tears and blood and burns.

"Finish it." Voldemort finally ordered. A killing curse ended the prisoner's struggles. "Come before me and kneel." There wasn't any hesitation in the recruitments movements as he kneeled before the Dark Lord with his head and body bowed in submission, and Jasper suspected that the young man could feel the intense crimson eyes that stared down at him in judgment. "Your arm." The Dark Mark was seared into the skin, binding him to the group and under his Lord's command.

The night continue on like that, and it wasn't until the sixth and final one that Jasper realized that there was a heavy pulsing magic that laid around the clearing. Blood magic. Death magic. If he hadn't been here to recognize it, he never would have guess it was helped to lay the magic of the mark in the skin, but it went deeper than that, didn't it? Killing shreds the soul, and with the blood magic already active, the mark probably anchored itself to those torn pieces. A bastardization of soul magic, how clever. It was why the mark could never be removed and how the mark was linked to Voldemort.

"Jasper." His name was the only used through the entire ceremony. He stepped forward into the half circle.

"Bring her." He looked off to the side. A woman was dragged forward, her feet unable to support her weight because of the broken legs. She was thrown to the ground. "This auror tried to stop one of my faithful, and I want you to show her what happens to those who interfere with Lord Voldemort."

Jasper didn't recognize the woman, and for that he was glad.

~..~

"Hey, Draco, what did you and Potter make a deal over?" The blond's hands tightened on his homework and wrinkled the parchment before he seemed to realize what he'd done and relax.

"He gave me several very persuasive arguments to keep some information from going beyond my father and the Dark Lord."

"Persuasive?" A fine shudder ran down Draco's body.

"Yeah." He still couldn't get the images out of his head that had appeared after a long, detailed talk. He was curious as to if the papers were right and Potter was insane and the coming of the next Dark Lord. Just the idea of the boy-who-lived with so much dark power and a malicious imagination made him queasy. He didn't want to find himself on the bad side of _that_ particular version.

"Alright?"

"I'm going to go lie down." He stood and set his homework in his trunk before lying on the bed.

~..~

"Hey Tom?" The Dark Lord sighed before looking up from the ancient book in his lap.

"What?"

"Help me out, I can't get this charm." Jasper flicked his wand a couple times.

"Which one?" He used a finger to make the page as he closed the book.

"Obliviate." Voldemort raised an incredulous non-existent eyebrow. "What?"

"Vampires can't use obliviate."

"_What?_"

"Surely I don't have to repeat myself. I know you have your moments but you aren't going deaf."

"You're mocking me again, aren't you?" The vampire gave him a flat stare.

"I would never." He reopened the tome in his lap and started reading again after flashing a semi-innocent look.

"Why can't vampires use the obliviate spell?"

"The spell requires that the caster and target follow the same brain patterns, so the spell can't go cross species such as human to goblin. Or in this case, vampire to human, and not to mention that a vampire's own mind magics make them unable to perform the necessary subconscious steps that are required."

"Err..."

"Suffice to say, you can't and leave it at that." There was a short pause. "Why do you want to know, your vampire powers should cover it?"

"I can alter a memory within certain limits, but I can't completely erase it or replace it."

"How much can you alter a memory?" Crimson eyes looked on with a surprising amount of interest.

"Depends on the situation really. Sometimes I can change out faces or the setting. I can even make it dream-like, but I can't even touch things that were... surprising enough for it to be considered unforgettable."

"Surprising in what way?"

"I suppose that isn't the right word, but traumatic makes it sound like something awful. It would be like... Okay, if I tried to alter one of the new recruits memories of the night they got marked, there wouldn't be much I could change. I could blur my image and change the number of Death Eaters that were there, but that's it. That event was so memorable that I couldn't do any thing. Of course, the exact opposite is true if I had held them under my thrall before they had gotten marked. Then I could change it to anything I could think of."

"So, whose memory were you hoping to erase?"

"Just an annoyance. Nothing to serious unless they step outside the parameters that I laid out."

"Are you tormenting my Death Eaters again?"

"He isn't a Death Eater yet, and I haven't done any thing." Jasper denied. "What are you reading anyway?"

"Do you remember back in school that you had mentioned something about stripping the magic from a core and not just binding it?"

"Mmm... yeah, Grindelwald, right?" Voldemort nodded.

"There are several whom would serve better alive but I wouldn't trust them with magic."

"I hope you aren't thinking of Dumbledore in such a manor." He frowned at the Dark Lord.

"I'm not so foolish. Even without magic the man would be a thorn in my side. No, better to end him now." Jasper made a noise of agreement.

~..~

Minerva was watching her student through narrowed eyes. His behavior these past few days had been just a bit off. Not enough to draw a lot of attention, but just enough to make several on lookers curious, Albus and Severus along side herself. Young Malfoy's behavior had also been suspect. As soon as Harry had taken a seat by the blond, he'd edged away warily, as if moving to quickly would draw the dark haired youth's ire. None of the teachers, however, noticed that with their attention so focused on Potter, that they themselves were being watched closely.

"They're getting suspicious." Neville quietly commented as he walked in alongside Luna.

"Yes, it won't be long until they do something." She answered. "Do you think the nargles are helping them?"

"Err... I guess they could be. Do you think we should warn Harry?"

"When he gets back from vacation."

Neville looked over to the Slytherin table where Harry was sitting next to Malfoy. Wisely, he decided that he was better off not knowing. If Luna or Harry had wanted him to know, they would have told him outright. As it was, he was a bit curious.

~..~

It was noon when Jasper decided that it was time to bother Voldemort again. Earlier he'd decided to explore the, very large, manor that the Dark Lord lived in. That is to say, he got lost and didn't feel like finding his way out using the shadows. It wasn't as if he would starve after all. He sat just off to the side of the man who was enjoying his lunch while reading over the mornings paper.

"You might be interested in this." Voldemort said while sliding the paper across the table. The headline was easily noticed.

_**Vampires on Azkaban!**_

_**All known vampires to be pulled in for questioning!**_

"Those bastards!" Jasper hissed. He then gave a petulant huff. His vacation was going to be cut short. Not to mention that all of the vampires were taking blame for this. He'd expected it to get out of course, it would have been foolish to think otherwise, but they should have had at least another month before the Aurors had figured what kind of wards were on the island. Some one must have helped them. The Unspeakables, perhaps? Usually they had a full nondisclosure agreement, but maybe they'd decided to lend a hand. Other than them... it would have to be a vampire. The thought was discomfiting.

"I need to go." He stood slowly and with a final glance to Voldemort he disappeared into the shadows of the room.

~..~

_A/N: Not as high as a word count as some other chapters, but a few more pages. It all balances out. Thank you all for taking the time to review. Hopefully with everything slowing down I'll have a better time with my spelling, grammar, and word usage. I'm also grateful for the constructive criticism, it's definitely a help when I have the time to implement it._

_Solitin: Usually I'm better at the your/you're thing, but I've been so busy as of late that I haven't really had time to go over my chapters even a little. Lately I've just been reading them through just to make sure they sound right and then I post them. I've still looking into a beta reader, but as it is, with everything else going on, it's slow going._

_Crimson Pooka: There will be more on the city and the vampires within the next few chapters. I mentioned The Dragon earlier in the story and I'm planning on having them make an appearance and explain a few things. I just don't know whether they're going to be male or female yet. _

_Reader Mike: If you could e-mail me sections of dialogue that you had trouble going through, I'll be able to see what I did wrong so as I won't do it again. Any help is appreciated. Thanks._

_ilyena damodred: That's a pretty decent idea, thank you. I'll still have to think how far the 'restoration' will go and how quickly it will progress, but it'll get there eventually._


	13. Chapter 13

_**The Dark City**_

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_Bear welcome in your eye,_

_Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,_

_But be the serpent under't._

_~Lady Macbeth_

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Jasper stepped forth into the shadows of the underground city. Surprisingly, there weren't as many of those as he had expected. Crystal formations that sprouted from buildings, the ceiling, and occasionally the floor, cast light around the whole city and bathed it in a faint purple hue. The torches that had lit on his first arrival had been snuffed, leaving the crystalline color as the only source of light.

"As you can see, we've made a few upgrades."

"Jean-Claude, just the vampire I was looking for." He greeted. "I was wondering if you knew anything about this." He held up the day's paper.

The blond managed to pale as he saw the paper. He was aware of it, naturally, but he had no idea that word had gotten out into the public so quickly.

"We should talk about this some place a little more secure, yes?"

"Alright." He nodded and followed the other.

It was astounding how large the city really was. He hadn't taken the time to explore when he was here last as he was in far too much of a hurry to return to the school before he would be missed. Therefore, he'd been totally unaware that the city ran even further beneath the ground. The second floor was nowhere near as large and held only a handful of buildings, but the amazing thing was that the stone he had empowered within the lake to restore the wards hung down from the ceiling and burned like a miniature sun.

"I was unaware that there was a second floor." Jasper commented.

"Technically there are four, but the two further under aren't open like the first and second. They're more of a series of catacombs than anything."

"What's down there?"

"I suspect that they were the holding for the... less than fortunate of the human slaves."

"Is the slave system still in effect?"

"Yes, but the clan lines use it rarely. There are those among the Flocks that practice it."

"Aren't Flocks and Clans the same?" There was a short pause in Jean-Claude's steps as a look of consternation swept across his face.

"I always seem to forget that you had no master to teach you. You've always seemed to fall into your roll so well that forgetting is easy." He shook his head but continued. "The vampire world is divided immediately into two, Clans and Flocks, sometimes called covens. Depending on the situation they can be used synonymously. The Clans are those belonging to the thirteen lines that made the council, whether by blood, turning, or binding. From there you have the Royal lines, who are the beginning, those turned directly by the Royals, and it keeps stepping down the further away from the main line you get. Most of that is instinctual information - you just know how far above or below you such-and-such person is."

"In the Flocks, however, it is a little more barbaric. The strongest takes lead over a group, and he takes the title of Master. The Master then chooses two who would act in his place if he is indisposed. They have no immediate hierarchy like we do. Instead, they fight for their place. Their powers develop differently than ours, but are most often found to be lesser than a Clan's special abilities. Their method of turning is also a bit different from ours. For us there is a bite and an exchange of blood. For them, the period of 'change' spreads over three days. It takes three separate feedings for them to inject enough venom into the blood stream, and then their change is terribly painful. A Flock newborn cannot survive without the hand of their Master either. It's been long suspected that the newborn has to feed off the Master's magic to sustain themselves for the first few years of life."

"Do they often have rogues?" Jasper asked as they entered one of the buildings.

"They're actually the only rogues. A Clan vampire would never dare."

"Would our little... informant be a Flock vampire then?"

"No, we've kept them strictly uninformed about our movements in general. They have little sense of unity among their race and tend to sell as many others out as they can when vampire hunters come for their heads."

"So, if it is a vampire it would be one of the Clans."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"How likely is that of a possibility?"

"It is... very high. I fear we have a traitor in our midst."

"Damn, this isn't something we need right now. Not to mention convincing Voldemort that we want an alliance as equals."

"About that, my lord..." Jean-Claude questioned softly as they entered one of the few rooms with a thick and heavy oak door that was closed and warded after they passed through.

"What?"

"I- We have some concerns, as a whole."

"Yes, what is it?"

"We are worried as to what you are willing to do to secure your Dark Lord's affections."

Jasper's train of thought felt like it had derailed. That wasn't what he had been expecting, and while he was by no means stupid, he wasn't sure what Jean-Claude meant to imply.

"I don't exactly follow." He admitted.

"We're worried that you would sacrifice your position, or us, to garner favor with Voldemort."

Jasper blinked and stared at Jean-Claude for a moment. He was surprised to see how genuine those fears really were. The blond vampire thought that he would sell either them or himself out just to remain at Voldemort's side. Admittedly, he would be a fool if the thought had not crossed his mind, but their lives -though he hadn't met many of them- were far more important than any happiness he would have with Voldemort. There wasn't any choice to make.

"I would _never_ allow such a thing."

"It isn't that we would doubt your sincerity." Jean-Claude looked distinctly uncomfortable questioning him.

"I understand. You may take it as my oath that the vampires will come first if it comes down to their safety or my happiness." The other looked shocked by that proclamation.

"My Lord-"

"I understand my duties _here_, and they come first." He interrupted.

Jean-Claude frowned slightly, but nodded. He didn't necessarily want his lord to be unhappy, but the other wasn't just master of his own self any longer. He had responsibilities as their leader and in finding others who would suit as the head of the lines.

"Thank you."

Jasper waved him off, instead choosing to pursue the reason he'd come here in the first place. "So what are we doing about this possible traitor?"

"We've got everyone we can spare looking into it. Unfortunately, that number is not many. There are repairs to be made and prisoners to watch. We haven't the manpower to spare."

"I'd say take your time, but this has me worried. A lot. If one of our own were to give us up to the ministry, what is to stop them from drawing a bit more dangerous attention? Dumbledore has a lot more sway than I am comfortable with."

"Not to mention your alternate identity." Jean-Claude added softly.

"Yes, there is that, isn't there." Jasper shook his head. "I'm going to head back to Hogwarts and take my place so Damien has a bit more opportunity to turn Snape. Keep me up to date on the situation."

"Yes, my lord."

Jasper was once again stepping into the shadows.

~..~

He stepped out into the lesser used section of the Hogwart's dungeons. A glamour spelled instantly on his clothes to make them the more familiar robes, and another hid his bright gold eyes. There couldn't be two Harry Potter's running around in the school so he would have to wait until he could talk to Damien to switch off.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

He hadn't, regrettably, been expecting company at his entry point.

"Mmm, a little blond. Lucius' child, are you?" Jasper sauntered forward with an exaggerated sway as he drew upon his vampire magic. The glassy, near lost look that suddenly took across Draco's face let him know that the thrall was taking hold. Malfoy seemed especially susceptible to it. A genetic predisposition, perhaps? Maybe there was some credence to the rumors of creature heritage in the Malfoy family tree. A certain balance of creature and wizard magic had been known to make some more vulnerable to different kinds of fascination.

"You - you feel familiar." Draco sighed out. His muscles relaxed under the exertion of magic, and he slouched.

"I think you're mistaken." Jasper said soothingly as he moved within touching distance of the other.

"Mistaken?" Malfoy looked confused and his brow furrowed.

"Yes, mistaken." He stroked a pale cheek.

"Yeah, you're right." Draco nodded agreeably. The thrall was pulling him down. It seemed all too easy.

"Of course I am. You're such a smart boy." He praised. "You'd like to help me out, wouldn't you? That's right. Can you tell me where Harry Potter is?"

"Don' know." Draco slurred.

"Why don't you know? Hasn't he been in classes?" He questioned. How did the boy not know? Granted, he didn't think Draco followed him around, but they shared classes often enough.

" 'S not Potter." He answered with another sigh and leaned into the hand that had yet to move from cupping his cheek.

"How do you know, Draco?"

"Know my name?"

Jasper had to catch Draco as his legs gave. There was a limit to how much thrall a human could withstand, and while it didn't have permanent effects, it could impair someone quite fantastically. The fact that Draco was more prone to it only made it happen faster. For the average human, it could take hours to reach the level Draco had fallen to. He'd be spending the next few days either in bed or the infirmary.

"Don't worry about that right now, Draco."

"Kay. 'M tired."

"I know, but I need to know where the one who looks like Potter is."

"Dis'ppeared in dungeons a' lunch." Malfoy answered while snuggling into the chest he was held against. Jasper gave a bemused smile. Draco was going to hate himself when he 'sobered' up. At least he knew now that Damien was in his lab.

"You should go lay down." Jasper said softly while stroking blond hair.

"Warm." He managed to somehow fold closer to the vampire.

"You need some sleep." He said gently and easily swept the blond up into his arms. "What's the password?" He asked as they came to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. The blond muttered a phrase and the picture swung open. He stepped gracefully into the room and made way to the fifth year dorms. He placed Malfoy down on his bed and left just as quickly as he had come.

~..~

Damien was in the lab in the Harry Potter guise. He was standing over a cauldron and ladling its contents into single dose vials that sat in a rack. When he filled eight, the maximum the rack held, he transferred them to a small box that, when opened, revealed soft velvet covered shelves. The box could hold thirty-two vials, enough to sustain a newborn for at least a couple weeks. Damien filled the box and closed the lid. The Bloodlust potion for Snape was finished. It would only need to be delivered at the right time.

"Finished, Damien?"

The vampire nodded in response and released the metamorphasis, allowing himself to revert back to his natural form. When he turned to face his lord, box in hand, the other was already casting the appropriate glamour to make him appear as Harry. The red head handed over the box gently. Harry opened it and examined the color of the potion within. Damien wasn't a potion master, but he did well enough. Harry gave him a pleased nod.

"Tonight; at dinner."

Damien nodded in understanding. Enough time was wasted in putting it off. There may have been more students now, as they still hadn't left for the holidays, but occasionally plans must be pushed ahead of schedule. He suspected that with the release of the paper that pointed fingers at the vampires, his lord would want to secure all he could, as fast as he could. By binding the professor to them, it would be one less front to fight on.

"Do you want me to report directly afterwards?"

"No, I'll come down before the nights over. Just watch him for the duration of the meal and then go back to Azkaban."

Damien gave a curt nod.

~..~

Luna was staring at her book serenely, not really reading so much as listening. Neville was next to her flipping through an Herbology book that he'd asked his grandmother to send to him. A slow, easy smile spread across Luna's face, and she tilted her head just a little to the side as if trying to hear a low noise. She closed the book gently and took to her feet.

"He's back."

Neville didn't have to ask who 'he' was.

"The game will begin soon." She spoke again and held out a hand to draw the boy to his feet. "It will be time to begin our parts."

"What do we have to do?" He asked.

Luna cocked her head to the side again while her eyes went even more distant. "We'll know when the time comes." She gave a short pause. "It's going to get dangerous very quickly, and before long we're going to have to flee."

"Where will we go?" He questioned.

She just gave him a small secretive smile that held a million answers and a million questions. "Come, we should explore the dungeons for a little while."

~..~

"Draco? What are you doing in bed?" Blaise approached the bed and looked in on the blond. He was sleeping soundly and his school robes were twisted uncomfortably around his body. Blaise shook his shoulder gently. He got an unintelligible mutter and the other shifted minutely. "Draco, you have to get up, we have classes."

"Not going." The reply was slurred and then muffled as he buried his face into the pillow.

"And why not?"

"Don't feel good. Go away."

Blaise huffed and folded his arms. He'd never seen Draco like this except for that time when they were younger and had gotten into Mr. Malfoy's liquor box, but Blaise knew that the blond hadn't been drinking. So with that conclusion, it had to be something else. Now the question was, should he drag the other up to the infirmary or inform Snape that there might be a problem?

"If you don't feel better by tomorrow, I'm dragging you up to Madam Pomfrey." He nodded more to himself than the semi-conscious blond. Blaise hoped that it wasn't anything serious because, while they weren't close, he did care for Draco's health. Malfoy gave a noise that could be interpreted as agreement and Blaise left towards dinner.

~..~

There didn't seem to be anything different in the great hall. All the banners were in the proper place. All the tables and house banners were as they should be, and the students were grouped into their typical cliques chatting loudly. So with all as it should be, why did he feel a heavy tension when he walked in to the room? There were no more eyes on him than usual, and there seemed to be no more ill intent than normal, so where was this feeling coming from.

He sat slowly at the Gryffindor table, as far from his housemates as he could possibly be and watched the hall with cautious eyes. Different. What was different? He put some food on his plate artfully, making it look like there was a lot more than there truly was. He brought the fork to his mouth in small bites, scenting the food with delicate sniffs. Had someone put a potion in it? Was that what was wrong? No, nothing in the food. So what was making him so on edge?

He glanced up at the head table. Snape was missing, as he was supposed to be, and all the others were talking quietly and eating their dinner. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, _wrong!_ He stood abruptly and silverware clattering on his plate. Panic was rising in his throat. He had to go, had to get there. He didn't notice the eyes that were suddenly on him, too busy looking around for some sign of danger that could cause such stirrings of alarm within him. The need to go became more urgent, like there was a voice in the back of his head telling him to _run_.

He finally gave into it, bolting from the great hall without even a thought as to what his sudden actions would cause. His feet led him, dragging his body along for the ride to a destination he didn't know, but he quickly recognized the path of. The dungeons, the potions room, Snape's quarters, and a vampire sitting across from the opened painting, the only thing holding his body up being the wall beside him.

Blood that looked more like foam was dripping from Damien's mouth, and Harry could hear the struggle his lungs were in as the vampire tried to get enough breath to speak. The red head's vampire magic had gone wild, totally out of control, enthralling portraits or setting small fires before snuffing them out again. Cold marble like flesh was withering before Harry's eyes as if all the moisture was being sucked from it. He looked up into Damien's face and saw terror and traces of resignation staring back at him.

"P-poison... blood..." Damien choked out, and Harry could hear that one lung was completely lost and unable to inflate with air. "Tricked... don't drink... Snape..."

Harry choked back a snarl of rage. For now, there was no one to see him, and he had Damien to save. There wasn't any time to deal with Snape. There would be soon, though, and he was going to make it one of the worst experiences of the potion master's life. Damien was under his protection, and no one hurt anyone that belonged to him. Even still, he couldn't quiet the thrumming growl that rumbled in his chest. He easily swept Damien from the floor and into his arms, trying to keep from jarring the other as he raced to the only room he knew was safe within the castle.

"Hurts!" The vampire gasped as he was set gently on the floor, body turned on its side so he didn't choke on the blood still managing to flow from his mouth.

Harry could only watch in mute horror as the vampire seemed to age before his eyes. Once young flesh became loose and wrinkled, age spots suddenly appearing. It was like watching years pass in an instant. Damien cried out again, far more pain filled since any Harry had heard since he'd come upon him. There was a sudden shift in the magic that had gone wild. No longer was it lashing out at the surroundings, but instead it had chosen to focus inward. Harry could almost hear it tearing at the organs.

"End it! End it please!" Damien begged before he was once again drowning in pain.

Harry kneeled next to him, frozen in a moment that no one should have to be put in. End Damien -one who he'd come to consider a friend, or watch him suffer. What choice was there in that? He nodded, though he was sure the vampire didn't see him, and he drew his wand to transfigure a sword from one of the vials in the room. The quickest and most assured way to kill a vampire was either to destroy the brain or the heart. He raised the blade with a practiced hand and brought it down sharply.

In the end, all that was left was a body to clean up and another personal line crossed.

~..~

He stepped into the underground city that lay beneath Azkaban without a care of who saw him. He would be missed as school this time, he knew, but that was of little consequence to what would happen if he had stayed. Pissed off vampires weren't conducive to the health of the faculty and student population. His senses immediately picked up the vampire he was looking for. Jean-Claude was on the second floor. He found the vampire setting some record books on stone shelves. Harry wasn't sure if it was chance that he'd found Jean-Claude or that it was chance he suddenly knew what to do with the potion's professor.

"Jean-Claude." He greeted.

"My Lord, what are you doing back so soon? And where is Damien?"

Harry clenched his jaw and the glamour on his eyes broke. The golden hue glowed fiercely with anger and power, and Jean-Claude took a small step back.

"I need to know how to turn an unwilling human into a slave."

"We don't-"

"I'm aware we don't do such anymore, but for this one, death is too good for him."

"May I ask... what happened?"

Harry collapsed almost boneless in to a chair, the fury suddenly rushing out of him and leaving him weak. He'd been operating on rage too long, and it was taking its toll on his energy stores.

"Damien was turning Snape this night, and then later I was going to blood bind him to me to insure his loyalty. I had thought that with death hanging so close and the warning I had given, that he wouldn't do anything stupid. More fool me. I think he took something to make his blood poisonous, and when Damien drank from him, it began to kill him. There wasn't anything to be done. His flesh withered, and he aged years before my eyes. He was in such pain that he asked me to kill him."

"Did you?" Jean-Claude asked.

"I did."

The blond vampire nodded, and there was a long moment of silence before he moved. He walked to one of the shelves that had been filled before Harry had arrived. He pulled a book from it. It was dark brown and old, but it looked to be in good condition. Jean-Claude hesitated just a moment before handing the book over to him.

"What's this?"

"There are many ways to bind a human to us and all of them are in that book. Some even have the results of the bindings listed in them. Do you know ritual magic?"

Harry gave an eerie little smile and nodded. "These are rituals then?"

"Most of them are, and there are a great many for unwilling participants as well." Jean-Claude answered.

He nodded and stood with the book tucked under his arm.

"Are there any protections on this?"

"Only vampires can even see the book, and beyond that are other nasty spells designed to do a multitude of things if one tries to bypass certain protections."

"Thank you for this."

"Did you bury him?"

"I made a pyre in the valley near the school."

"He would have liked that." Jean-Claude spoke softly. Harry nodded to him and was once again stepping through the dark.

~..~

When he left, he didn't head back to Hogwarts. It was already late, almost midnight, and he figured that if he was going to be called on it, it might as well be worth it. Voldemort's home was empty, save for the two of them, and he headed up to the sitting room that he could feel the other residing in at the moment. It was one of the more casual, with large comfortable couches and chairs and a few paintings that gave it a more welcoming air. The Death Eaters knew nothing about it, naturally, and they never would. Voldemort was their master, not their friend, and had no intention of giving them comfort in even a small way.

All of his glamours were long since gone, too tired to hold them up. He knew his long dark hair was a mess and that he looked entirely out of sorts. It was very much unlike him. He felt Voldemort's eyes on him as he entered the room and stretched out on a sofa without a word. Voldemort wasn't reading as he usually was, just enjoying a glass of wine as he watched the fire that jumped and crackled. The comfortable silence stretched on for nearly an hour and a half before the Dark Lord spoke.

"What vexes you so, Jasper?"

The vampire gave a small sigh and turned to face the other.

"There are some things I was forced to do due to foolishness on my part, things I had never intended to do."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Voldemort swirled the dark wine in his glass.

"I don't kill my comrades. That I had to do so pisses me off."

"Traitor?"

"No. I requested something of him, and I didn't expect him to meet any resistance."

"We can't account for all factors, Jasper."

"I know, but this one I should have seen. It was especially naive of me to ignore it."

"There are always mistakes to be made. You've only to take care that this one is not repeated."

Jasper's lips twisted into a wry smile, thankful for the comfort that Tom was willing to give. Even more thankful since comfort wasn't something that the other did, ever.

"I'd like to stay tonight."

Red eyes met gold, and Jasper stayed perfectly still as that piercing gaze searched him. Voldemort must have found what he had wanted because he drained his glass and stood. Jasper stood as well and Voldemort beckoned him to follow. He did so, thinking that he was going to be led to another of the guest rooms. It was a surprise, therefore, when he was taken before the heavily spelled doors that could only lead to Voldemort's private room

He gave a contented sigh as he was allowed to curl up next to Tom for the first time in a long time. He was entirely too wrung out to care much at what this meant for them, but he did know that it was the first peaceful rest he'd gotten since he'd died in their seventh year. He fell asleep in comfort and warmth with familiar arms wrapped around him.

~..~

It was two days after the incident, and Harry was studying the book he'd received with a fervor he didn't know he had. There were many variances within the spells and rituals he'd read in the book, but he'd found every one of them fascinating in their own way. Some he'd even found over his long life on the muggle side, without the magic of course. There had even seemed to be one that was similar to Voldemort's marking ceremony. The one he was hoping to find, he'd not come across yet.

Slave bonds were often very straightforward and very literal. Most stripped the slave entirely of their free will, and the bonds were comparable to the imperius curse on many levels. Others transformed the person into something best able to serve their new master, frequently becoming so submissive that they couldn't function without their master's order. Harry wasn't looking for anything like that, and it severely limited the number of slave bonds he could use. He needed something that allowed free will -to an extent- and bound loyalty so tightly that there wouldn't even be thoughts of betrayal.

He wouldn't completely destroy the way Snape was. The man was brilliant after all, and not just in potions. It would have been wasteful just to kill him. Though that wasn't to say that he would stay his hand if there were no other options, but chances were, he was more likely to take the professor over to Azkaban and leave him. Under watch, of course. There he would be no threat and easily contained if it came down to it. Harry quickly thumbed through a few pages that would be of no interest. He'd already read those quite thoroughly yesterday.

Then he found what he wanted. Three pages from the end, not even two paragraphs in length. It was easy to miss, looking as if it belonged to the one before it. All that Snape would be needed for was a blood donation and to receive a brand that was very similar in function to the one he already had. The ritual would be done in two parts, the first to tie Snape to him and the second to bind him mentally to his will. It would take a week in all as he had to wait a short time for the first part to settle before performing the second half. The best part was that the slave bond would cancel out any oaths he'd taken that interfered with Harry's command. He closed the book with a malicious smile and proceeded towards the dungeons to find a room to drop the glamours in.

~..~

Severus was once again in his potions lab brewing with a zeal he hadn't had since his youth. He doubted that there would be much time left, yet he still hadn't found a way to keep that one vampire, Jasper, from killing him. He'd taken some of the other vampire repelling potions, hoping to buy time, but they weren't long lasted, and he doubted they would work on that gold-eyed menace who didn't seem to play by the same rules as the rest of his species.

"Severus Snape." A voice behind him hissed and he clutched his arm in habit, but no, that wasn't the Dark Lord. Couldn't be. He whipped around and faced something that, at the moment, he found far more dangerous. Damn! He thought he had more time!

There wasn't any time to react before his was thrown in to a wall and then in to the floor. His wand was taken first followed right after by all of his potions. Hissed words bound his movements to the floor and he was rendered helpless. He didn't fight his invisible tethers, already resigned to his death and likely torture to lead him there. He couldn't say that he didn't see it coming in the end.

"Oh no, you're not going to die." Jasper said as he pulled Snape head up to look at him in the face. "Death is freedom, and you aren't allowed that, not yet. You've sins to pay for, little mortal." Jasper made quick work of the heavy potions master robes and dark shirt that was worn underneath.

He looked at the smooth expanse of skin before him, only slightly marred by old scars. He shifted over to Snape's right side and set his dagger against the skin. He cut quickly, drawing a line that arced from the front of the third to last rib, curved over his side, and ended at the bottom of the last rib. It wasn't a large mark, or deep, but it would serve it's purpose. He _accio_-ed three vials and filled them with the blood from the wound. Then, as he brought the dagger up again, he began the chant for sealing the mark. The blade bit into his skin and blood darker than normal formed a puddle in his hand. The chant slipped into parseltongue, and Harry pressed his blood filled hand to the cut.

He gained his feet and with a flick of Snape's wand the blood was cleaned and the laceration was sealed to keep from bleeding. Over the next week it would form into his personal brand as the magic settled and took hold. A sound alerted him that there was another presence coming. He hissed a release spell for the bindings and disappeared into the shadows again, though not without parting words.

"You belong to me now, Severus, and there's no escaping your fate."

There was a knock on the door and a call of his name when the vampire had completely vanished. Snape muttered the word to deactivate the wards that held others from his potions lab. Dumbledore quickly made his way in, an abnormal amount of worry in his old face.

"Are you all right, dear boy?" The headmaster immediately dropped to Severus's side. "What happened?" He asked as his withered hand hovered just above the felled man.

"Vampire did something. Not sure."

"How did he get into the school?" Albus asked more to himself than the dark man. The wards that had been set around the school should have kept all vampires out, and the fact that the vampire had also passed Severus's personal wards as well was cause to worry. This was troubling.

"He can't be a normal vampire. He doesn't seem to follow the rules." He finally pulled himself in to a sitting position and gingerly touched the cut he was left with. There was a strange, dark pigmentation forming around it, almost bruise like.

"A student couldn't have invited him in..." The Headmaster trailed off at the thought.

"And why not? The beast practically admitted to inside help when I last spoke to him."

"Are you sure, Severus?" Albus asked and received a very flat look. "Of course, you're rarely mistaken in these things. I'll have to do a sweep of the students and those with vampire ties." Unbidden, his thoughts immediately turned to Harry Potter and his odd behavior of late. He hoped that he was wrong in his suspicions, but he had a horrible feeling about it.

~..~

Tomorrow was the day all the students would be leaving for the train, and a great many were gathering their belongings and packing them away in their trunks. So, for the most part, Harry was alone in his wanderings of the halls. He discovered that his newest tails were both aurors, one male and one female, but he paid them no mind. He had no intent on doing anything that could be deemed as suspicious.

He'd noticed some strange happenings in the last day. There had been abnormal pulses of magic running through the school. It felt like divining magic or a search, and that made Harry a little wary. With his binding of Snape only happening last night, he had to wonder if they were looking for vampires in the school. His movements froze as the Headmaster stepped around a corner to look at him.

"Oh, Harry." He spoke with sad eyes and a tired face.

Harry turned to run, knowing that he'd been found out as a vampire. He'd forgotten that the two aurors on his tail were so close. A set of stunners took him hard enough in the chest to toss him ten feet. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

"Albus?" Kingsley questioned.

"There's a private room in the hospital wing. Take him there, and take all the necessary precautions, including bindings. Tell no one."

The two nodded solemnly and quickly carried on with their set task. Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn't say that he was surprised, but he'd been hoping... Either way, what has happened, has happened. He would just need a plan to keep the public from finding out and also keeping Harry from falling into the nature of a vampire. He would also have to find out how it was he changed before fully coming in to his abilities. It shouldn't have been possible.

He sighed tiredly. All those plans and plots to keep Harry from becoming a vampire, and all those secrecy oaths and vows worth he had made use of. It was all for naught now, wasn't it?

~..~

A/N:_ My thanks to all those who took the time to review and point out my mistakes to me. Another huge thanks to KW2009 who is my acting beta._

_Elfwyn: You're looking at in from an angle I hadn't intended. Most of his life, vampire that is, he had spent on the muggle side of things and learning in a muggle way. With how often I had him on the magical side (in ch. 2) I thought it had come across a lot more than it did. Without a vampire to really guide him, he is still learning the depths of those abilities. What may seem like common sense for a vampire doesn't to him because he never learned it. And with the magical side of things, such as learning spells, I would have been far to tempted to turn it into a god-like Harry without a chance for any thing else. As for Riddle 'easily beating him' consider it more as he got lucky than anything. If I had Harry just beating him into the floor, than there was little chance that I could have gotten my story to come together as I had wanted._

_I don't consider him stupid or lazy either. His knowledge of things is going to show up in future chapters as being far more archaic and ritual based. And they are evenly matched, but it's a balance -and a delicate one if I even have a hope of Voldemort coming across as the insane psychopath he is while still being... able to function in a relationship with Jasper/Harry (This message was already sent to the reviewer and the response was posted incase anyone else had similar thoughts.)_

_Saigo: I see where your coming from, but I also have Voldemort fairly ignorant of a lot of Harry's life, including the fact that he's pretty much the vampire king as of now. As for him being passive, what need does he really have to be aggressive. As a vampire of a few hundred years, he's sure that he'll get his way far quicker than lashing out against the little things, like being ordered to torture someone. It's more true in the initiation scene as they were in front of Death Eaters, and a fight amongst leaders only causes dissent. I'm trying to play a lot of the situations between them, now, as a lot more subtle than they really need to be. I figured that played more into their years in Slytherin together than anything, and that was something I wanted to focus on as a writer as I'm not very skilled at writing about low-key maneuverings and machinations. (And yes, Harry's body count is a lot higher than Voldemorts.)_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Dance with the Devil**_

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_He that is taken and put into prison or chains is not conquered, though overcome; for he is still an enemy._

_~ Thomas Hobbes_

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Harry woke in stages, slowly drifting up from an unconsciousness that he was aware wasn't natural. He kept perfectly still with his breathing even as he went over the last thing he remembered. The searching magic in the school. The headmaster with that knowing gaze. Trying to flee, and then he'd been stunned by his auror tails. So where was he now, then? He took a slow delicate sniff of the air. The smell of potions and strong disinfectants made his nose tingle. The hospital wing then. He barely cracked open an eye. It wasn't any room he'd seen before. Was this an offshoot of the main wing? A separate room? He quickly fell back into stillness and faux sleep when the door opened.

"My word, Albus! Is all this necessary?"

"I'm afraid so, Minerva, vampires are dangerous beings. It's best to take no chances."

"But the bindings-"

"Are only to assure our and his safety." He nodded to her. She gave him one of her stern looks, the one that said though she didn't agree, she'd let it go.

"And his magic?" She almost didn't want to hear the answer. To bind a wizards magic, such an act was horrendous. Even the worst offenders had no such thing done to them.

"No, no. That's been strictly left alone. There have been runes added to stop vampire thrall, however."

"What's to be done now?"

"I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure, which is why I brought you in. I very much doubt that Harry will tell me anything. He's also been drifting from his friends or almost any other contacts. Those he has been talking to are for mutual gains. He had also left the castle a few nights ago to destinations unknown."

"What about the fact that he is a vampire? We can't just leave him amongst the students!" She sounded outraged now. Even if Harry was one of her favorites, she wouldn't stand for others to be put in such blatant danger. She wouldn't have it! Especially not after that whole debacle with the philosopher's stone.

"We won't." He quickly assured. "But we also can't allow word to get out that he's become a dark creature."

"You intend to keep him locked in this room, strapped to a hospital bed!" She accused.

"And what would you have done, Minerva?" His old voice was suddenly harsh. "Where would we put him? Not with his family any longer. Not in the school. And without proper guards, certainly not the London house. This is the only option available to us."

"I'm sure that Remus and Sirius can handle him. Doing this, no matter your reasons, will only make him resent you, and then where will you be?" She gave him another of her hard looks, and Albus finally sighed in defeat.

"The earliest we could get him out of here without drawing attention, would be the end of the week."

"Are you going to keep him under until then?"

"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "I have questions that need answers. There won't be an opportunity for a long time when I send him off."

"And his... feedings?"

Albus tugged gently at his beard. Yes, the feedings. Obviously he wouldn't support such a deviant nature and allow the boy to feed from a person, no matter how willing, but he couldn't just withhold blood either. Animal blood? He'd heard of some vampires that took sustenance from animals, but it didn't always work. In fact, it was more often that the vampires became weak and sickly before they finally died when drinking animal blood. Weak and sickly wasn't so bad, in fact that could be a additional benefit. A weak vampire was easier to control, but he didn't want to kill the boy, at least not yet. After Voldemort was gone, there really wasn't another option. Harry just wouldn't be allowed free reign as he was.

"It will all be worked out in time."

"Shall we tell the students he was in an accident then?"

"Yes, yes that will work. He's been in the hospital wing often enough." Albus chuckled.

"When will he wake?"

"Soon enough I suppose. It's only been a few hours, and while that's no time at all for being hit with a set of stunners from trained aurors, his being a vampire should shorten the natural recovery time substantially."

"Why don't you just enervate him?"

"People are more off balance when they wake on their own." He stated simply only to receive yet another disapproving frown.

"He isn't a prisoner and shouldn't be treated like one."

"I fear that it will be the only way to get answers. He has, after all, been able to avoid suspicion for over three months."

"I shall leave you to it then." She gave a cut nod and disappeared from the room.

Dumbledore took a seat at the bedside that was some distance away. Finally, he would get the answers he wanted. How he disappeared from his Aunt and Uncle's home, how he dispelled all the traces on him, and how he stayed hidden for the whole of the summer. Not to mention how he became a vampire. There was also the question of the skills the boy had gained over the time he was missing. It wasn't enough to be obvious, but if one knew what to look for, it could be seen. Harry had been far more confident in his return, not only as a person but in magic as well. That didn't even touch on his sudden proficiency in classes. He'd jumped from mediocre student to top of the class. The teachers may believe that all the time spent in the library was the cause, but Albus knew better.

The boy had read a great number of book in the library, sure, but those books had little to do with his present fifth year courses. Most of them, he'd discovered upon looking at the book registry, had gone to post graduation levels. The subjects had varied widely as well, not only touching upon the core classes that Hogwart's offered, but magic from other cultures and obscure branches such as totem magic and the old arts that were practiced on the traditional holidays like the Winter Solstice. Initially he hadn't though much of it, just a renewed interest in studies, but now that he looked back on it, he suspected that there was more to it than that. A sound from the bed drew him from his musings.

Green eyes blinked at the ceiling for a few moments before darting around quickly. Harry was already intimately aware of the straps that held his body to the bed. Padded cuffs bound wrists and ankles. Thicker straps were tightened across his shins, thighs, hips, chest, shoulders, and even his throat. Personally he thought it was overkill, but then, he also wanted a chance to escape from the fastenings. He didn't struggle against his holdings at all, just turned his head to look directly at the man who was responsible for his current placement.

"Why hullo Headmaster! Funny seeing you here!" He said jovially. It was only his acute sight that picked up the small twitch in the man's brow. "I also have to comment that this is a tad inappropriate. I am only a student after all." He always had found it odd how Dumbledore had referred to some as 'dear boy' or 'my boy', and judging by the flash of outrage on the man's face, he had picked up what Harry meant to imply.

"This is no time for outlandish remarks, Mr. Potter. You are in a very precarious situation." He spoke sternly in his no-nonsense tone.

"Oh? Precarious? Well, that's certainly better where my mind had wandered to. I mean, a little slap and tickle isn't really-"

"Mr. Potter!" The Headmaster interrupted before the conversation could stray any further.

"What?" He asked innocently with a wide eyed look.

"That's quite enough."

Harry thought about making a remark about how it was him tied to the bed, and that he really didn't have a say as to what was 'enough' or not but thought better of it. He could see though, that his quick comment had set the headmaster off track and off balance. And seriously, he highly doubted that any one else would have said anything of the like to the man before. It was all so entertaining really.

"Of course, Headmaster." He agreed easily. "Now, precarious positions?"

"You are a vampire." Dumbledore stated.

Harry smiled and flashed his fangs.

"Why, yes, yes I am." He nodded. "I hadn't thought that it would be to much of a problem as long as I didn't bite any one."

"When did you become a vampire Mr. Potter?"

"That's an ambiguous question, sir. I mean, technically I've been a vampire since birth without all the drawbacks or advantages of being one."

"When did you start to need blood?"

"I've always needed blood, sir, as all humans do."

"I'll ask you to stop being deliberately obtuse. This is a very serious situation you find yourself in, and it is nothing to joke about."

"I suppose so." He looked pointedly down and tugged gently at his wrist.

"Now, when did you become a vampire that needed to feed off blood?"

"Over summer vacation." No point in trying to hide that. Chances were that the old man already had a good idea of when it happened.

"How were you able to leave your relatives' home?"

"I walked." He gave the man a deadpan look. Dumbledore frowned at him.

"Were you in the country over your vacation?"

"At times." He answered vaguely.

"How did you get rid of the tracking spells on you?"

Now it was Harry who frowned. He didn't want to answer all of the Headmaster's questions. It wouldn't be fun if he did that so soon. He did have a week to screw with the man, and he really didn't want to give up this chance. It wasn't likely that the old man would hurt him, though he wouldn't bet money on that, and he want to use this opportunity.

"Mmm... I don't feel like answering right now."

"You don't have a choice." Dumbledore said strictly. "You will answer my questions."

"No, I don't think I will."

"With the recent taking of Azkaban and the discovery of vampire involvement all vampires are being taken in to the ministry. Those found with even minimum association are being executed as soon as they have no more information for the department of law enforcement. I'm your only way to safety."

"That only works if I did have something to do with the state of affairs at the prison."

"That could be true, but with the most recent article in the _Daily Prophet_ and your sudden changes, I doubt they'll really believe your claims, my boy."He gave that kind old man smile.

"Please don't call me 'my boy' when we're the only ones in the room and I'm tied to a bed." Harry stated blandly. "Besides, I doubt that they would really execute me. I am the Boy-Who-Lived, and even with all the rumors going around, there would be a huge outcry if I died. We both know that it is far more likely that they'll lock me away for the rest of my days. Or try to, and when Voldemort finally shows his face, they'll just let me walk free."

"Very likely true," Dumbledore admitted. "If you had an advocate of any sort, that is. It is unfortunate that after you are announced as a vampire that no one will stand in that place."

Harry made a noncommittal noise and turned his head away.

"I'll give you today to think over your choices." Albus said as he left the room. "Hopefully you'll make the right one."

Harry sneered at the man's back. He waited until the door was closed to test the fetters that held him to the bed. The thick leather creak and groaned, but he couldn't get enough leverage underneath himself to tear the shackles. He wiggled around. They didn't allow for much shifting movement either. This... well, it wasn't good. He wasn't getting out without help. It was tempting to try and set fire to them, but he supposed that they might be spell and element resistant just on principle. Poppy came in not to much later with a goblet in hand. The bed magically adjusted him into a sitting position. He smelt the tang of blood from the cup, but also the scent of a strong sleeping draught.

"Time for dinner, Mr. Potter."

He raised an eyebrow at her and than looked flatly at the glass in her hand. "I'm not drinking that."

"You will."

"And how is that?" He gave a derisive snort. He may have like Madam Pomphrey well enough, being that she healed him so many times, but he wasn't about to let her drug him. Besides, he could tell from here that it wasn't human blood.

"You need to stay healthy Mr. Potter."

"As a vampire, I'm dead. Healthy is sort of an oxymoron."

She huffed at him, but turned and left. She had to admit that the boy was right about one thing, she really couldn't make him drink. Tomorrow though, after he'd gone so long without a feeding, he wouldn't be able to resist. She'd read up on vampires during her healing training, and their bloodlust was the most well known thing about them.

~..~

Albus was in the room when he woke next, a goblet in hand just as the nurse the previous night. He huffed and turned his head away after declining the blood. He wondered how long it would take before some one got tired of his stubborn attitude and attempted a forced feeding. If the situation weren't so annoying, he might have found it amusing.

"Good morning, Headmaster." His perfectly cognitive speech seemed to set the old man a little off track. The goblet in hand lowered just slightly as he frowned at the vampire tied to the bed.

"I must admit surprise. I had thought you would be lost in bloodlust by now."

"Ah, well, that's a mystery isn't it?" Harry shrugged as much as he was able. "So, what is going to happen today? Something a little more entertaining than last time, I hope."

"Perhaps if you would answer my questions, Harry." The old man smiled. Harry snorted. Not bloody likely, that.

"No, that doesn't sound like fun." He turned away.

"It isn't really a matter of fun."

"I should have visitors. When ever I'm in the hospital wing, I have visitors."

"I can't allow that Harry. Your deviant nature is a danger to-"

"Deviant? _I'm_ the one who's deviant. You're the creepy old guy with a young boy tied down to a bed. I know we've been over this, but really! Those kind of accusations coming from you in this situation? A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"I'll not stand for such talk in my presence. If you cannot control yourself, then I'll have to invest time in truth serums and compulsions to make you answer."

"Any one who can fight of imperious can't throw a compulsion."

"Do not tempt my hand at truth serums, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid that you will not like the results."

"Gonna sic your pet potion's master on me?" His voice dropped lower. "Want to talk about deviants, you should hear some of the stories about _that_ one. Then again, the same could be said of all Death Eaters, couldn't it? There are plenty of rumors about what goes on at those revels, let me tell you. This one time I heard that-" Harry was abruptly silenced, and he pouted at the Headmaster.

He knew that it wasn't entirely wise to push the old man, but the stronger truth serums took days to brew and didn't have any sort of shelf life so they would have to be made fresh. If he could push the elder in to such an action, it would by him a bit of time that cooperating really didn't have. He needed a plan of escape, and those days would prove invaluable. Dumbledore was scowling at him, clearly upset with his antics. He looked up in perfect innocence.

"I'll have Severus start brewing. Perhaps you'll be more accommodating a few hours, though."

Harry scowled at the old man's back. No doubt the Headmaster thought he'd be gone to animal instincts when he came up next. It would be humorous to see the man's face when he gave him a jaunty wave and a mocking smile. If there was one thing he knew for sure about the headmaster, it was that the man didn't like things being beyond his control or to unpredictable to guess the responses of. That was one fault of Tom's, though he loved the man. Even in his insanity it was easy to estimate his next course of action. Then again, that might change as Harry Potter was no longer his main source of attention.

It took some time to wear down the silencing spell enough to snap it with his magic. He spent the next few hours humming lowly to himself, the songs slowly drifting back to archaic times. When that wasn't enough to hold his attention, he turned to counting the wooden beams and the stones above. Lunch came and went with him ignoring the mediwitch and her goblet.

He was completely, totally, and utterly bored. That... had never happened before. He couldn't even toss and turn in bed to get comfortable. He'd never wanted those visitors more than now. Some one to talk to at all would be great... well, maybe not Dumbledore. No matter how bored he was, he would never wish for that man's company.

"Harry." And speak of the devil.

"Afternoon, sir, was lunch enjoyable?"

"It was. I've heard from Madam Pomphrey that you've refused to have yours."

"Not hungry." He looked up at the ceiling. He could start counting again. Or maybe he could look for shapes in the stone. That one looked like a fish.

"Indulge an old man's curiosity, Harry. How is it that you seem immune to your species very nature?"

"Needing blood you mean?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, we all are aware that I was never a normal wizard. Why would I be a normal vampire?"

"Well and so." The elder nodded again. "Have you felt any pain, Harry?"

"Pain?" Harry frowned in confusion. Why would he be in pain?

"From Voldemort."

Oh. Well, that explained the question.

"No."

"No visions?"

"Why, exactly, would I have visions? Isn't it just a scar?"

"Of course, of course, but it is an unusual scar given under unusual circumstances."

Harry nodded but quickly realized that the Dumbledore knew far more about his scar than he was letting on. That he knew it was a point of connection, or would have been, between them was very telling. If the man knew that, then it wasn't to much of a leap to assume that the Headmaster also knew what his scar truly was. If he was aware that Tom had made Horcruxes, the diary and him, then he would know that there were more. Hopefully he didn't have a guess at the number made or there would be problems for dear Tom soon. He would have to escape and gather them up and hide them.

"You know something." Damn, he hadn't meant to say that.

"I know a great many things." Dumbledore responded with that all knowing air.

Harry had the sudden urge to hit the man.

"How are things between you and your friends?" Dumbledore asked as he started unwrapping a lemon drop.

"Fine." His relations with his few friends were going well enough. Let the Headmaster make his assumptions on who those friends happened to be.

"Oh? It seemed as if you were a little distant from one another. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger had both stopped by at my office numerous times out of concern. I had been worried that you three had grown apart."

Harry neither confirmed or denied Dumbledore's thoughts.

"So why does the school think I'm in the hospital wing this time?"

"I believe the rumor is that you stumbled across one of Hagrid's pets." He gave a low chuckle. "Now, are you going to answer some of my questions?"

Harry appeared to think about it a moment, and then a mocking smile stretched his lips.

"Nah. Where would the fun be in that?"

Dumbledore's expression settled into something as close to anger as Harry had ever seen.

"This is no longer the time for games! Stop this childish behavior at once!"

Harry actually chortled at the ire in the old man's voice. He wondered which was worse for Dumbledore, the fact that he didn't obey every order like a good little lapdog or the fact that no matter how hard he pushed, Harry's vampire magic sealed away his thoughts and memories. Taunting the old man from the opposite side of impenetrable shields had no end in amusement.

"Games are all that I have left while in your care Dumbledore, and I have no illusions about what you're willing to do to get the desired results. The ends justify the means, right?"

Dumbledore had nothing to say to that because no matter what answer he gave, the boy wouldn't believe him. He just shook his head sadly and stood from his chair. Obviously he was getting no where. This would require a change of tactics, or maybe just a change in interrogator. If worse came to worst, he would do what he had to do to accomplish the goal. He wasn't always a supporter of the 'ends justifies the means' as Harry claimed, but there were times when he would do just that.

~..~

It was near two in the morning when Harry had his next visitor. He couldn't claim that it was one he was expecting. Severus Snape was the last person he was expecting to see though, in retrospect, it really shouldn't have been. Harry was a vampire and a vampire had to do with the dour man's recent troubles, so naturally the potions teacher would come to interrogate (or attempt to) him. Harry didn't see why the man had come himself however, as how could he expect to gain any information when the Headmaster hadn't.

"Snape."

"Potter."

"Why are you here?"

"I believe you know the answer."

"And you think to get explanations from me where the Headmaster has failed?" He scoffed "Don't you have a truth serum to brew?"

"The Headmaster does not approve of more immediately effective methods." Snape stated plainly.

"Torture." Harry couldn't help but snort. "There isn't much you can do here, is there. It must irk you to know how close you get to come only for it to be so far."

"Arrogant and cocksure just like your father, but since I'm feeling amiable, I'll give you a choice. Tell me what I want to know, and I'll be sure to tell Dumbledore that you really don't need to spend some time in the dungeons."

"Ah, the warded torture rooms." Harry said in realization. There was a brief flicker of surprise on Snape's face. "I had wondered why they weren't bricked up." He had stumbled across them back before he'd become such close friends with Tom in their school days.

"No denials about the Headmaster?" Snape asked.

Harry tugged gently at his bonds again and looked them over again. He couldn't get enough leverage to rip them straight through, but every device had it's weak point. Maybe if he heated the metal enough that burned through the leather.

"I'm keenly aware of what the Headmaster is. He and Voldemort are really only the same kind of monster painted different colors. Oh, and Voldemort is a bit more honest in his dealings." He pause and tugged hard enough to make the bed creak. "How is that going by the way, the whole serving-two-masters thing. I can't imagine it would be easy."

"And how do you have any idea on who my 'master' is?"

"Did you know that the court transcripts are opened after five years? Quite a coup Dumbledore made when he stepped in to keep you from Azkaban, wasn't it? I believe your trial even made front-page news in the _Prophet_."

"You are surprisingly well informed."

"You have_ no_ idea."

"Do you realize to full extent of your actions? You're a danger to everyone but your enemies with your reckless, foolhardy attitude. You'll kill us all before our due time." Snape suddenly looked twice his age and pained.

"No man truly grasps how far his actions impact the world around him, but I do know that I am doing what is best for me and mine."

"You selfish brat!" He hissed.

"The same could be said of many others." Harry shrugged. "We do what we must, but I plan on coming out on top for it."

"And you plan to accomplish this with only yourself and your band of Gryffindor sycophants." Snape sneered.

Harry laughed.

"You truly don't have a clue, do you. It isn't the Gryffindors I'm with. Think about it Snape, with my well known name, public standing, and present condition, who would stand with me?"

"The vampires." He spoke softly.

"Got it in one." Harry gave a cheeky wink. "With natural skills and prowess, not to mention the wizards tearing themselves apart, all we would have to do is wait until its over and take out the victor while they're still weak."

Snape opened his mouth to snap off a comment but closed it just as quickly. No doubt he was remembering what Jasper had said about Harry not knowing their true allegiances and all the implications that came with such a statement.

"And you believe that the vampires won't side with the Dark Lord?"

"Some will, I'm sure, but it's not really an all or nothing deal, is it? That would be like saying all the werewolves would join in the fight."

There was an extended silence where Snape just watched Harry fiddle with the wrist cuffs, lost in his own thoughts. Severus was momentarily lost in his own musings, internally debating on how much Harry likely knew or suspected about those he'd joined up with. It was Harry's voice that drew him back to the present.

"Any thing else, Snape? Since you're not going to get your answers?"

The dark man's lips curled into a displeased snarl.

"Give it time Potter. I may not kill you, but a little pain goes a long way in teaching a lesson."

"Ve haf vays of making you talk." Harry cackled dramatically as the professor left the room.

~..~

Harry didn't want to open his eyes. He really, really didn't want to deal with the three people in the room so early in the morning. Ron and Hermione were nervously waiting around for him to 'wake up', likely so as that they could coax some answers from him. When Dumbledore had asked him about them the other day, he should have just been smart enough to keep his mouth shut, but then how was he supposed to know that the Headmaster would contradict himself and bring them in.

"When d'ya think he'll wake up, 'Mione?" Ron scuffed his shoe against the floor in boredom.

"He'll wake when he wakes, Ron." She responded with an irritated tone. Ron had yet to leave her on her own for an extended period of time, even going to far as to follow her to the library. It seemed that without Harry there to be a constant distraction, that Ron had become a bit clingy.

"Why're we here again?" He complained as he kicked the wall. "S'not like he'd our friend any more."

"Because the Headmaster asked us, Ron. Now quit complaining."

Harry nearly winced. Now the Headmaster was going to want to know who Harry's friends were. He really didn't think that would be blown so soon. Well no hope for it now. He gave a sigh and opened his eyes slowly.

"Hello, Harry." Hermione said as she took a step closer but still maintained a large enough distance between the two of them. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm strapped to a bed, how do you think I'm feeling?"

She looked a little taken aback by his cutting response before she seemed to puff up in anger.

"We didn't have to come see you, you know. The least you could do is appreciate it a little."

"Then why did you come? I didn't ask for you."

"The Headmaster said that you would be grateful for our presence, that you were _asking_ for company."

"Not yours. Asking you is like asking your stalker on a date: encouragement."

"You shouldn't be rude, all it's going to do is land you in trouble."

"Hasn't yet." Harry snorted. He would rather deal with Snape than Ron and Hermione. At least he could screw with Snape a bit, but then, he should be careful because he might get what he wished for. The snarky git was right about one thing, as long as he was kept alive for as long as necessary it didn't matter what was done to him. In so far as pain, that is. Nothing like permanent maiming would likely be acceptable.

Harry shot his gaze around during Hermione's rant on how they didn't have to come and that they should just leave him on his own. That the headmaster hadn't been mentioned at all as if he were present in the room lead Harry to believe that the man was invisible, and he was uncomfortable no knowing exactly where the old man was. The barest shimmer over in the far corner clued him in. It was eerie how still the man could be. If Harry had been human he wouldn't have seen him.

"Harry! Harry, are you even listening to me?" She had her hands on her hips and her jaw set. It was the look she got when he was going to do something incredibly stupid.

"Mmm no, not really." He admitted.

"You need to pay attention when people are talking to you!" She huffed indignantly.

Harry gave a jaw cracking yawn and stretched the few muscles he was able to in his position.

"If all you're going to do is attempt to reprimand me, quit wasting my and your time."

The sudden change in his demeanor halted what she was going to say next. She blinked a few times before looking back over her shoulder Ron who gave her a puzzled look and shrugged. Such a complete change in tone and speech patterns almost made her think she was talking to a different person, or personality. Magical people weren't known for being susceptible to MPD, as the magic itself kept separate personalities from forming, but that didn't mean it was impossible. She would have to look into that.

"Let's just go, 'Mione, the bloody git doesn't want us here anyway." Ron sneered at Harry. "'Sides, he seems to only be friends with snakes lately." And with that Ron had turned and left through the door. Harry couldn't say that he was sad to see him go.

"I hope that you'll still have friends when you realize how much you need them Harry." Hermione said softly as she followed Ron out and closed the door behind her.

Harry waited for a time to see if Dumbledore would move or reveal himself, and he wondered if it would be wise to acknowledge the man or not. He had to confess curiosity as to why the man was still in the room though, and he decided to plunge ahead with a Gryffindor recklessness that didn't allow him to contemplate the repercussions of what he was doing.

"Was that supposed to accomplish something, _sir_?" The last word held a mocking lilt, and he stared directly at the hidden man.

Dumbledore dropped the charms that hid him and walked over to the place he usually was in his visits. He had been hoping that with all the precautions to hide his physical self, that his occupation of the room would go unnoticed. Unfortunately, as a older powerful wizard, he was unable to conceal himself metaphysically, and he was aware that this failing is what was likely to give him away if he was caught.

"You said that you had wanted guests."

"I think you wanted information."

"That as well." Albus disclosed easily enough. "I thought you had claimed you were getting along fine with your friends."

"And so I am." Harry nodded. "You just assumed that by 'friends' I meant Ron and Hermione. Do you know the muggle saying about assumptions."

"I'm aware of it, and I shall endeavor not to fall into such an obvious deception again."

"Not falling into them again is the easy part. The hard part is figuring out which ones you're already prey to." Harry smiled at the man, once more flashing white fangs.

Dumbledore stood in silence and watched the boy. Where had it all gone wrong? He'd done everything he could thing of right. Playing to the boy's hopes, dreams, and impulses, it should have been easy. His upbringing had ensured a self-sacrificing personality, and his school days had built on that magnificently. He'd used compulsions to be sure, but those were to instill a trust to him that Harry would find impossible with authority figures. He'd built on them a little, twisting them to a particular task, but otherwise, he had kept out of direct contact.

This sudden and blatant mistrust should have been impossible with the compulsions so deeply rooted into his subconscious. Harry's statement of throwing them, while not entirely false, couldn't be true for the ones that had stayed with him for so long. Not without outside help at least, and as far as Albus was aware, there were only a handful that could have drug them out, none of which the boy would have, or could have, made contact with even while out of the country.

No, there had to be more to it than just what he knew. Or what he thought he knew, he amended, as he took into account Harry's comment about assumptions. That sentence alone called into question everything he had guessed based on Harry's responses. Nothing the other had said, or would say, could be taken at face value. Even the vague non-answer responses likely held far more meaning than he could possibly guess at. There seemed to be a lot more going on then he had any idea of.

Dumbledore met the green gaze that seemed far older than it should. He suddenly felt young looking into those eyes, and he couldn't fathom why that was. It was the peculiar way he was being watched, he supposed. As if what ever the Headmaster did was positively insignificant and would bear no effect, but that couldn't be right. He was just a boy, albeit as special one, but a boy none the less.

"I'll give you this last chance, Harry. Answer my questions and I will wait out the rest of the week before shipping you off to Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus."

"You talk as if it will be so much better there. Just because there are no bars or chains doesn't make it any less of a prison."

"Your answer?"

"Piss off." He gave another smile.

"Professor Snape will be collecting you tonight, do try and be cooperative." Dumbledore said grimly and turned away.

"There are some people you shouldn't play games with, Headmaster." He spoke in a low, violence promising tone that caused the man to turn and face him once again. "I'm one of them." Magic made his eyes flash brightly and glow in the dimness of the room.

~..~

_A/N: Thanks once more to all my reviewers, and a special thanks to my beta KW2009._


	15. Chapter 15

_Note: A ' + ' will signify a shift in reality, and a ' ++ ' will note the return to the actual reality._

_**Hell**_

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_Wild animals never kill for sport. _

_Man is the only one to whom the torture and death of his fellow-creature is amusing in itself._

_~ James Anthony Froude_

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Snape had shown up just as Dumbledore had promised, and surprisingly, even to himself, Harry hadn't tried to fight the man. He'd only cast a dark and promising glare at the man and allowed the spells cast to wash over and settle. None of which were used to put him out, which Harry found strange all things considered. It would have been wiser and safer to move him while unconscious. His gurney wheeled itself down the hall, taking the lead in front of Snape, and flew over and around any obstacles they came across.

Harry was mentally tracking the path as his body was locked into position and he couldn't turn his head. It was only his previous exploration of the dungeons that let him know when they approached the old torture rooms. The rooms actually laid beyond the labyrinth that the Slytherin students used to lose their followers, and it was so rarely that students passed the labyrinth that this part of the school had never been blocked off. There had never been an incident of a student getting lost this far into the depths of the school, and so it had never been a major concern for those in a position to demand it sealed.

He barely noticed when he is taken into one of the ancient rooms.

"Your new home, Potter." But there isn't any bite to Snape's tone or any of his casual spitefulness.

Harry takes a good look at the potions professor. Snape's form is hunched, and his face is drawn as if he hasn't slept for a few days. The dark circles under his eyes tell the same story. The man looked surprisingly weak standing there, almost defeated in a way, and though Harry could guess why, he really doesn't understand it. Adding another to the mix of masters in Snape's life shouldn't have affected the man so. He was supposed to be angry and then use his resourcefulness to find a way to get his revenge. It was the Slytherin way. Not becoming this half broken thing.

"All right, Professor?" Harry's question seemed to badly startle the man.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself, Potter? No doubt even you can understand why these were called torture rooms."

Harry shrugged as much as his bonds would allow.

"Yeah, but I really must be sure of the mental state of my captors and very likely their torture expert. I have to know that you're doing a good job." Harry was rewarded an incredulous look at that.

"I can assure you of my mental stability Potter, and I can also tell you that I'll not be the one to conduct the interrogation."

"Pity." Harry sniffed. "I've heard so many stories. They say that you're only second to Lucius and Bellatrix at the revels."

"How do you know that?" The stiffness that had invaded Severus' body spilled over into his voice. Harry gave him a lively little smile.

"People like to gossip."

"The only ones that would gossip about such are the Death Eaters." He said sharply.

"Glad you know your fellows so well." Harry nodded. "But you can't prove anything, and no one will believe you."  
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"So sure of yourself." Snape sneered.

"I am."

He really was, and Snape knew he was right. Just as he had told Dumbledore before, no matter what the rumors were, no one would truly believe that he was going Dark. Oh, they enjoyed the gossip and slander now, but if it ever came down to it, they would never truly embrace the idea. He was their hero and savior, and they wanted to keep him around if there ever was another Dark Lord on the rise. The silence hung between them for a while before Snape finally decided to break it.

"You do realize what is going to be done to you?"

"Yes. I imagine that they're not going to overly creative though. Creativity, for some reason, only happens on the bad guys' side. Depressing I tell you." He pouted.

"This is nothing to joke about, you foolish child!" Snape hissed. Harry just gave another shrug. "Do you want to die?"

"They never said they wanted to kill me."

"Just tell them what they want to know." He didn't speak softly or gently, but Harry detected a faint amount of pleading in the man's voice.

"For what, Professor? For them to lock me away with Remus and Sirius? An exchange of cages is all it is." He tried to make a hand gesture and was reminded of the bed he was tied to.

"You wouldn't be tortured." He pointed out blandly.

"Frankly sir, I'm surprised you care given our past history. Personally I had figured you would jump at the chance."

Snape didn't answer his silent accusations, choosing instead to turn on his heel and leave, closing and locking the door behind him. Harry frowned. There was a bit more about Snape that he needed to find out.

~..~

Illusions were an amazing branch of magic. Everything from glamour to the _lumos _spell were held in this field. The Imperious Curse lay there as well. It is most well-known and renowned however, for the spells born of it to shift and simulate a new reality. Those truly skilled can ensnare all of the senses, and are occasionally able to create physical wounds from a purely mental aspect. It is claimed a dying art in the records of the Ministry, and all of those who possess a master's in this field are registered and are required to wear an identifying patch. The patch, however, isn't a recognizable declaration, and only those who are either familiar with the patch or have taken the Auror course test would know it off hand.

Harry was one of the few who recognized the patch from a familiar aspect. He'd once killed a wizard who had tried to snare him when he was discovered a vampire. They, the Illusionists, were a dangerous breed, more so than any other creature he had met. They could trap your mind with only a few words or a song, and then they could twist it to do their bidding. He remembered the times when even the wizards feared such power and executed anyone with a talent for it. That passed quickly enough, and they squabbled over the ones they could find. What greater warrior than the one who could turn an army against its commander?

It was from his familiarity with it, and those who mastered illusions, that he knew what had walked into his cell. It seemed as if the Light, while not pulling any punches, were hesitant to harm him outright. A point in their favor, Harry supposed, because the same couldn't be said of the Dark. Then again, the pain kept anyone from even thinking the word _rebellion_.

"Illusionist." Harry hissed menacingly.

The man, middle-aged, tall, with light brown hair, and darker brown eyes, smiled at him.

"Ah, they didn't tell me that you knew of us. It's a dying art, you know."

"You should all be killed." He bore fangs at the man, and the man laughed.

"Had a run-in with one of us, have you? Well, you shan't get an argument from me. The smart ones drown us at birth. My name is Gerich Avellan, and I'm to be your tormentor." He gave a jaunty smile and wave.

Harry suddenly recalled that Illusionists were never more than slightly sane. After all, why live in reality when you can have a life of your own making.

"They wanted to tailor my session to you, you know. They didn't want me to snap your mind and reshape it into something else. They have _rules_, but we won't tell if we break a few right? Rules were only made to be broken." A grin stretched across Gerich's face and the edges of madness tinted his eyes. "Now, lets play."

He held his hands out in front of him, forming around an invisible ball. A small light formed in its center, and it rapidly grew and swept Harry up into a storm of white and gray.

A musty scent invaded his nose, and the place he was in was shrouded in darkness, save for the single bar of light that spread across the bare floor. The roar of a car and he heard the door slam. The familiar voice of his Aunt called out a shrill greeting. The thump of heavy steps shook down dust on to his head. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes, but paused. Glasses? Didn't he not need - The though was cut off as the door swung open violently and a beefy hand reached in for him. There wasn't a place to escape and nothing to hide behind.

The hand snagged his clothes and dragged him out. Light seared his eyes, and then he was air born. The breath rushed out of his lungs in a choking gasp. He didn't have time to draw breath as something heavy crashed into the side of his head. He heard his Aunt's shrill screams, reprimanding about blood on the furniture.

"Tell me what you did boy! Tell me, and maybe I'll stop."

Harry saw the foot this time, and he barely had time to curl up to avoid taking the blow to the face. Something cracked. He gasped in pain.

"Tell me where you were! Coming back with all that -that freakishness!"

"W-what?" He coughed blood. He pierced a lung.

"Where were you this summer, boy!"

Why did he want to know? Why did Vernon even care? Then he suddenly he wasn't coughing up blood anymore. The distraction of the impossibility halted his answer. Then he remembered. Vampire. Dark. Power. Harry rose up, lashing out with claws that were suddenly there, and the image of his uncle burst into hues of light with the rest of Privet Drive following. He only caught a glimpse of another face, a man who was frowning just slightly before he was swept up in a wash of white light.

He and Ron charged into the bathroom with their wands drawn and ready to confront the troll long enough to help Hermione escape. The troll smashed apart the sink, sending shards of porcelain skittering across the floor in every direction. They quickly acted as distractions, drawing the creature's attention away from Hermione long enough for her to race to them. Ron called her over, telling her to hurry as Harry threw a piece of debris at its head.

Hermione bolted to them and, before Harry could shout a warning, her foot slipped on one of the shattered pieces of sink. She fell to the floor in a heap with a yelp. Both Harry and Ron ran forward to help. The troll's club was faster. It fell onto her form with a sharp crack, and Harry could see the bones that used to be ribs suddenly burst from her skin as the innards followed. He couldn't move as blood and thicker things spattered over his face. Shock had him moving slowly to look back up at the troll, who had raised the club and reached for a leg of what used to be Hermione. The creature had looked like it was about to take a bite of it when a curse shot over Harry's head and knocked the troll back. It didn't get up. Strong but gentle hands spun him around.

"Harry, you must tell me what happened. How did you leave?"

His mind was still fuzzy, and things were swaying dangerously.

"It was the beginning of summer. I got a letter from-" He stopped and shook his head. This wasn't right. Hermione didn't die in first year and Dumbledore... He didn't like Dumbledore anymore. No, he hated Dumbledore.

The illusion burst around him into smoke that swirled like a vortex, and then everything was gone.

The Dark was oppressive, suffocating. He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed, and he couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet though he knew it had to be there. He called out only to discover there was no noise to be had. His hand convulsively clutched his throat, sharp pointed nails digging into the skin. He couldn't feel that either. Sensory Deprivation. In the muggle world, they could only remove so much. In the magical world, everything could be taken away. Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste. All gone.

Panic welled up in him and he lash out at the dark, not even able to feel the air split around his fingers as his hand whistled through the air. Then, he stopped. This wasn't so bad. Really it wasn't. He may end up madder than a hatter, but at least it would be a painless process along the way. There wasn't any hurt to be had here. He smiled softly and lay down. Yeah. This was nice. It would be kind of like going to sleep and never waking up all the way. Just dreams. Pleasant dreams. All he had to do was let go.

Minutes.

Hours.

Days.

_Tom._

Tom. Why did that name sound so familiar to him? He should know it. It was important. He just had to remember. Tom, Tom, Tom. That name. There was more to it than that. Tom Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort.

_"Tom!"_

And the darkness fell from around him, launching him into a bright light and a rainbow of color.

He was chained to a beam, a thick wooden post with a single steel ring bolted firmly to it. Connected to the ring was a chain that wrapped tightly around his torso and hitched to another identical ring at the base of the shaft. Wizards of all ages stacked kindling around his feet, the piles of twigs, brush, and small logs slowly working their way up to meet level with him at mid-thigh. Familiar faces were part of the crowd in front of him, friends and people he had considered family.

A single wizard came forth garbed in an executioner's robes with a cowl drawn to hide his identity. The order to continue was given, and the man raised his wand. He clenched his eyes closed. He was going to die here, and they were just going to let him. They were going to burn him at the stake as if this were some witch-hunt and they were the muggles. He was going to die, and it was going to hurt. A lot. The spell was cast and the tinder at his feet burst into flames that quickly licked higher.

It didn't take long for him to start screaming as the fire and heat bit at his skin enough to cause it to rise in painful blisters. It wasn't much longer than that, that the flames had grown hot enough to start the larger logs that lie beneath his feet. His body bucked against the post as his flesh was eaten away, blackened as the blaze roared around him. The cheer of the crowd watching rose over his own screams until he couldn't scream anymore because his lungs and throat were clogged with smoke and he couldn't breathe.

He choked out wordless prayers. That he wanted to live. That he didn't want to die, here, like this. That he would rise again to take revenge. The inferno leapt away from him, moving around him like a series of bright veils before reaching in once more and soothing his skin. Harry watched it for a moment and he_ knew_. The fire was his. He was the master, and the flames didn't dare to harm their master. His laugher, which had started as the fire had swept away from him, turned into a vicious snarl. The tendrils of heat reached out into the people and set the crowd ablaze.

Everything fractured, like a broken mirror, and pieces slowly started falling away bit by bit.

Harry opened his eyes to find himself back in the old torture chambers of the school with all memories and emotions as they should be. Across from him, a short distance away, was the charred corpse of Gerich Avellan - still smoking. A smile stole over Harry's face.

_'Bet the motherfucker never expected that.'_ He threw his head back and laughed.

~..~

Long after the body had cooled and the smell of burnt flesh had faded, someone was sent to check in on the progress that had been made. Needless to say, they were surprised to find one perfectly alright vampire and one extra crispy wizard. He didn't recognize the man, but Harry did recognize the smell of booze. He gave the other a wicked fanged grin that sent the man scurrying out the room in a hurry. Unsurprisingly, Dumbledore returned with a man that Harry only recognized from pictures he'd seen. Kingsley Shacklebolt, an auror and, by his scent, one of the followers when he had been taken captive.

"Dumbledore... well, I can't exactly say that I'm happy to see you, but I suppose your company is preferable over the last one." Whether it was Harry's show of disrespect or not, something he had said seemed to irk the dark Auror who scowled at him. "And Shacklebolt as well. I must say, it is good to see that you find toadies in the higher places."

"You seem to know quite a bit, Harry. Now, how about you tell me what happened to Mr. Avellan?"

"He got toasted." Harry gave a short pause. "Really, that was quite obvious."

Dumbledore, though, seemed to be in no mood to humor the vampire. Harry assumed that it was likely because, even tied up, Harry had somehow managed to be dangerous. Not to mention they likely had to hide the body. Couldn't just drop him it off somewhere and expect it to not draw attention. It wasn't often that people were just randomly found burnt to death.

"Why did you kill Mr. Avellan?"

"Because I didn't like him, and he should have been smothered as a baby."

"Why do you think that?"

Harry had the strangest feeling that this was what it would feel like going to a therapist. Except without all the interrogations on the side. Needless to say, even without the interrogations, Harry decided to never go to a therapist as long as he had a say in it, and considering that he was a vampire who could burn people to a crisp, he always had a say.

"Used to be the law, you know, to kill those ones at birth." He said casually.

"You know what he was?" Kingsley asked with some measure of surprise.

"Oh sure." Harry nodded, feeling remarkably less irritated now that there was one less Illusionist in the world. "Nasty lot they are." He nodded again.

"What else do you know, Harry?"

"What I know isn't nearly as fascinating as _how_ I know it." He gave a mysterious smile and continued on. "But it's really a moot point as I'm not going to tell you either. So, who's going to work me over this time?"

"That will be Kingsley, I believe." Dumbledore nodded to the man.

"Hope you're better than your predecessor." Harry said as he looked pointedly towards the charred patch of floor.

"Yes, I suppose we're all in agreement on that." Dumbledore stated. He then drew his wand and with a simple flick, the hospital bed Harry was strapped to transfigured into a chair that held him in the same manner.

Harry tugged at the restraints, testing them once more. He still wouldn't be able to get enough leverage beneath him to shred the bands, but at least this position was a bit more comfortable than laying down all the time.

"So," Harry started off. "What are we doing first?"

In response to his question Kingley pulled a vial from his pocket and held it up in the dim lighting. Verituserum. The muscles in Harry's shoulders tensed. He should have had at least one more day to work with. Where the hell - oh, right. Kingsley was an auror. Then, upon further thought, Harry wondered if the serum even worked on non-humans.

"Open your mouth." Kingsley ordered. Harry pursed his lips for a moment then, upon seeing Dumbledore's wand move, quickly opened his mouth. No reason to get cursed if the outcome was going to be the same either way. There was the strange sensation of floating, similar to the Imperious, and then, nothing. He blinked dazedly at the room, wondering where the nice 'not all there' feeling had gone. Kingsley looked back at Dumbledore.

"Do you want to ask the questions, or should I?" Dumbledore gave him a nod. "Where is your place of residence as of the middle of last summer?"

"Cottage."

"Where is this cottage?"

"France."

"How did you become a vampire?"

"Was born that way."

Both Kingsley and Dumbledore made a frustrated noise. Harry found it amusing. Either the serum wasn't working, or it allowed him to be as he usually was.

"How did your vampire heritage come out of dormancy?"

"I bit someone."

"Why?"

"He was going to bite me."

This time Dumbledore and Kingsley traded looks.

"Was he a vampire?"

"Yes."

"Why were you with him?"

Harry nearly smiled at what his next response was going to be, but restrained himself. It wouldn't be as funny if he blew his cover. Obviously their truth serum plan had gone all to hell. The best part was that they didn't even know it yet.

"We were having wild, hot vampire sex."

Kingsley choked on a laugh and a faint hue of pink touched Dumbledore's cheeks.

"Why?" The auror coughed, not entirely sure where this was going to lead.

"I enjoy wild, hot, kinky-"

"Perhaps a different line of questioning?" Dumbledore mildly suggested, cutting Harry off.

"Who helped you escape from your relatives' house to France?"

"I didn't have help." He was such a liar.

"Where did you go over the summer?"

"A lot of places."

"How did you get rid of the tracking spells that were placed on you?"

"I didn't."

"Who did?"

"A shiny ring."

"Who was the ring from?"

"Your mother." Well, he had to know that he couldn't keep doing it forever. It was getting really boring anyway. Kingsley sputtered and Harry snorted with muffled laughter.

"The serum didn't work?" The auror asked in disbelief.

"Apparently not." Dumbledore tugged at his beard. "I wonder if it is because he is a vampire, or if there is something else at work."

"So what do we do now?"

"Resort to more... primitive methods, I'm afraid."

That, surprisingly enough, sounded ominous even to Harry.

~..~

Harry's chair had been exchanged for a bright and shiny set of manacles, both wrist and ankle, that held him suspended off the floor and anchored to it. It wasn't an uncomfortable position as of yet, but it wouldn't take long to reach that point. With his arms pulled tightly overhead, it strained the muscles in his back and chest enough that, were breathing a necessity, it would be a lot more bothersome than it was. The door to his cell swung open and Mad-Eye entered and was quickly followed in by a man he didn't know. The second man looked like a bit of a bear with a scruffy face, broad shoulders, and wild hair, smelling distinctly of... _woman_? Well, that couldn't be right.

"Either you have some issues, or you are the manliest bird I've ever met." He deadpanned.

The man's hair lit up in a slew of colors as a red blush enveloped his (her?) whole face. He/she sent a pouting look towards the scarred auror.

"I told ya it wouldn't work, lass." The auror shrugged.

"Metamophagus." Harry stated with some surprise. They were supposed to be rare and here he had met two within a single month.

The burly man melted away into a petit woman with vibrant pink hair. He recognized her from the photos of the aurors he'd looked through. Nymphdora Tonks. Not long out of Hogwarts, a rookie, and most notably, clumsy. He figured that she was likely clumsy due to her metamophagus talents as changing the body often resulted in a shift in the center of gravity. It would take a lot of time to overcome that particular handicap.

"Nymphadora Tonks." He greeted. Her hair went to a brilliant shade of orange.

"Don't call me _Nymphadora_." Harry ignored her and turned to look at Moody.

"Spell practice then?" He questioned. Moody's impairments and the fact he'd brought a rookie along led Harry to believe that this would be both an interrogation and a demonstration. It was a brief thought if they would be trying the cruciatus or not, but it was quickly brushed aside. Even if they were, which he doubted, it wouldn't be for any true length of time.

"Good guess." Moody nodded. "You can save yourself some pain if you just answer up to everything."

"No. She looks like she needs the practice any way." Harry nodded to Tonks, who gave him an indignant look.

"Aye." Moody chuckled. "Well then, let's get to it."

"Is this an interrogation lesson or just a practical casting lesson?" Harry asked curiously.

"Bit a both." Mad-Eye answered. Harry nodded. That meant they were likely to start out fairly easy. Beginning with easily reparable damage to the extremities, moving to the torso, likely shifting to larger wounds that were easily infected and would scar, going on to bone breaking, and then finally touching on curses of permanent damage.

Harry didn't really listen to the curses as they were cast, once by the elder and then repeated by the younger until it was correct. He didn't need to. Most of the curses they were starting off with were ones he'd already known. He jolted slightly in the chains when the spells impacted, but he never made a sound. He'd been hurt far worse in his playful duels with Tom than with these little curses. But then, Tom always had played dirty when it was just the two of them, delving in to the Dark Arts without hesitation and unafraid that too much damage would be done. They'd always both been of the mind that if you can't dodge or counter it, you had deserved your injury. It was great incentive to learn. He yelped as his robe was cut away.

"Hey damn it! I liked that robe!" It had been that soft emerald green one with the black trimmings. One of the few he'd gotten from Spain during his stay.

"It was just a school robe." Tonks said. Harry pouted. He had glamoured it.

"Quit talking and start casting." Moody said gruffly. "Test out that punishment curse. Fifteen lashes with it."

Harry had been right when he'd told Severus that the Light side lacked creativity, or, at least, this pair did. He wasn't absolutely sure about Moody, as the man had lived through the first rise of Voldemort and had likely used and been exposed to a fair number of curses, but the old auror was probably limited by Dumbledore's guidelines. There wasn't even an attempt of those curses that had a decent death rate, such as the entrails expelling curse, and the cutting, severing, and bludgeoning curses had all healed quickly. Harry was personally of the opinion that the most painful of the lot had been the one he'd predicted would be: cruciatus.

Unable to pull information from him with their meager means and strict rule set, Moody and Tonks left the vampire to his own devices, still shivering from the aftereffects of the unforgivable in his chains. Harry's lips curled into a sneer as he watched the door closed. They hadn't even bothered to clean up the blood they had spilled.

~..~

Moody stood in the most defensible position in Albus' office with his arms folded over his chest and his face pulled down into a scowl.

"Don't know why you expected any different. With the little leeway you'd given and the sheer stubbornness that you know the boy has, why did you see another outcome?"

"I had hoped that a little pain would bring him back from the path he'd strayed to."

Alastor snorted. "You made him to used to pain."

Albus frowned at his long time friend. "This isn't the time for this debate."

It was an old argument between the two of them. Albus declaring it was what they had to do, and Moody stating that they were only making another Dark Lord that would rise in Voldemort's place. As much as they had argued about it previously, Dumbledore almost had to agree with Moody now. He would have agreed entirely save for the fact that it wasn't likely that the boy had joined Voldemort or the Dark so much as thrown himself in with a neutral group. Alastor chuckled darkly.

"You just don't like it that your pet monster got off it's leash. Face it, your little tests took him straight out of your hands. You got what you wanted, you just can't control it."

"Then what do you suggest?" Albus sighed tiredly. "You know that all the curses you'd like to use have a higher chance of death even as a vampire, and I don't want him dead."

"Wipe out his personality. It's where he gets his willfulness from. With that gone, he'll fall back into line."

"And how do you suggest I do that? Obliviates don't work cross species and it seems as if mental barriers sprung into place over the summer. Neither Severus or I can get beyond them."

"There are potions."

Dumbledore frowned again and folded his hands in front of his mouth.

"There are, yes, but every one of them, including several of the ingredients within them, are restricted, banned, or are a Class 1 non-tradable item."

"Did I happen to mention a raid that went very well and four cases of Class 1 non-tradable items were seized?"

"Indeed?" The Headmaster's eyebrows rose.

"Aye, and those particular potions only take thirty-two hours to brew. In the meantime, you can resort to more physical techniques with the boy. Even if it doesn't work, it'll soften him up and allow the potions to take a quicker hold."

"Kingsley is adept at such techniques." Albus said thoughtfully. "Get those ingredients to Severus and inform him of the potion that needs brewed."

Alastor nodded to him and left the office.

~..~

It was night, though Harry wasn't exactly sure how he knew. The dungeons were silent save for the occasional drip of water that echoed through the long stone halls. He shifted in his bindings uncomfortably. The edges were starting to chafe even his strong skin. He'd been alone for hours now, his tormentors having retreated to make new plans when their last had failed. He snorted. Idiots, the lot of them. He wasn't human and he would never allow himself to break for them either. It didn't matter how long it took, eventually one of them would slip up, get complacent, and then he would escape. Then, when they least expected, he'd come back and tear them limb from limb, rend their flesh, and relish in their screams. They would treat him like a monster... Well, it was about time he started acting like one, wasn't it.

"You've allowed yourself to be caught and tied like a common animal? Like a _human_?" The sudden scornful voice in the room caused him to jerk violently in his ties.

He looked wildly about the room. No one, nothing, had touched his senses, so where had the words come from. Instincts tightened their hold and he gave a long, low growl to the room. If the Order had found a way to hide themselves even from his amazing senses, then what hope did any of the other vampires have? His mouth twisted out an ancient language. If they were the Order, they couldn't respond.

_"Show yourself!"_

_"You think to order me, pitiful wretch?"_ The voice came back in the same dialect and full of mocking amusement, but even as they spoke the shadows of the room came together, coalescing into a tangible thing.

A woman formed of them. Her skin, hair, and even her eyes were as black as the shades she formed from. A slim dress clung to her body, made up of shifting hues of gray and black, and the end of it seemed to seep across the floor like a dark fog. He'd never seen anything like her.

"Who are you?" His voice was little more than a stunned whisper.

She turned her head just slightly as if she hadn't understood his question. Without answering, she moved directly in front of him and a chair just a dark as she was quickly formed as she went to take a seat. More shadows swept from the corners of the room and slid up to cover and seal the door. She sat with the poise of a woman who has ruled and was to be obeyed, an air of aristocracy backed up by power surrounding her.

"There are a great number of things I have been called." She finally said after she was comfortably seated.

"Which should I call you then?"

This question seemed to please her for some reason, but the small smile that stole over her face made him cringe. This woman, he could tell, would be a mistress no one wanted to be slave to. She was beautiful, the lines of her face making her look angelic, and her impossible power only added to the near saintly visage. It wouldn't be a large leap, however, to imagine her face twisted into cruelty as she exacted punishment. Harry had seen the same during his years. Beautiful women were like roses, the bright red petals distract you from the thorns.

"Dragon."

And with her answer Harry was suddenly thrilled that he hadn't gone to search the Dragon out.

"And you, little king, what call do you answer to."

"Harry, in this form."

The woman tisked, her lips curling up in a small sneer and exposing a line of sharp teeth that were befitting her name.

"Not a fitting name, little king, you shall change it." She said. Harry just nodded his agreement. What was one more name?

"Why are you here?" He asked with a lot more courage than he felt.

The woman didn't answer at first. She instead chose to examine the room and the bindings that held him tight. A look of disapproval came and went. He wondered for a moment if she could see the heavy wards that layered every inch of his cell. Then she turned to looking at her overlong nails.

"I've come to meet the heir to the line Umbra, to see if you are worthy of the title you take and others hang around your neck." She tilted her head and pinned him with an intense empty gaze. "You're interesting, little king, but you are foolish. You forget so easily."

"Forget what?"

She gave him another of her smiles and he flinched.

"If you cannot remember then you deserve the fate these fool men plan. I have seen their minds, and your fate shall be worse than death can grant. You will cease to exist, becoming little more than their slavering war dog to fight their battles." She was suddenly in front of him, kneeling on the ground with her hands holding his head tight and her nails digging into his skin. "It would be the most beautiful cruelty, one even the gods could delight in."

He could feel blood starting to slide down his neck as her nails pierced his flesh. Her eyes seemed to darken further, and he could almost feel her age as her power set in a slow pulse around him. It impacted his head like a blow, and it would have rocked him back if not for the hold she had on him. She was powerful, more so than anything he had ever come across. Images, memories, flew across his mind. Most too quick to see, but there were some that held to him long enough to know what they were.

A world full of fragrance and plants long extinct. Animals of which he'd only seen fossils of. Men who weren't truly Man yet, huddled in caves, then around fires, fearing the dark and the call of the wild around them. He had a revelation, suddenly recalling references to Mother Night. He finally understood what Dragon really was. She was the Dark, the Beginning. Who did the vampires pray to?

"Me." She hissed in a pleased voice, answering his thoughts. "Truly amazing, little king. Gifted. I always reward the gifted." A corporeal shadow curled about her finger, and she brought it to his cheek.

He could feel her nail etching his skin, marking him, and her power reached further down, into his magical core and into the recesses of his mind to do the same. When she pulled away, it was like she had suddenly taken all of his energy with her. He collapsed as far as he could in his tethers.

"They said you were the Master of Umbra." He whispered weakly.

"I am the Master of all, but my children have forgotten." She petted him gently, a mocking kindness. "Your gift is only yours if you can escape. It is reward, and incentive, to live as you are and become what you are meant to be."

"What am I meant to be?"

"You will learn soon enough." She touched the mark on his cheek before disappearing. Harry fell into a dreamless sleep.

~..~

Dumbledore entered the cell with Shacklebolt at his heels. The pair of them looked unusually solemn and reserved. Kingsley held back, staying against the wall as the Headmaster approached. The elderly man had his hands held clasped behind his back and he stopped almost within touching distance of Harry.

"Today will be your last chance, Harry. Will you tell me everything I want to know? Who helped you escape? Your connection with the vampires? What you know of the Azkaban takeover?"

"I'll tell you nothing." Harry answered just as soberly as they looked. He could sense the tension in the room and knew that what Dumbledore said was true. Today would be the last day, though he knew not how it would end that way.

"Very well." As Dumbledore spoke Kingsley stepped from his place against the wall.

The auror stripped off his outer robe, exposing a dark sleeveless shirk and loose pants. Dumbledore stepped to the side, gave the man a nod, and moved over to where the auror had been standing previously. Harry saw the blow coming long before it hit, but there was little he could do to avoid it, tied as he was. The blow knocked the air from his lungs, and another kept him from drawing a breath. A third hit planted firmly in the side of his ribs and he could almost feel the whole bone structure of his chest shift to the side without the rest of his body following.

It took several heavy blows to his ribs in the same spot to break one. Kingsley wasn't satisfied to move on until three were broken. Shacklebolt moved around methodically, targeting his kidneys next. The hits hurt enough that it drew a low pained noise from him. Harry couldn't stop the flames that sprung up in his defense. The fire leapt at the auror, taking on a serpentine form as it flew through the air. Kingsley drew back hurriedly, and Harry didn't miss the look Dumbledore gave him. Greed and a lust for power that Harry had only seen in Voldemort.

"Fire elemental. I _had_ wondered how Gerich met such an end." The old man murmured. "To have such in my control..." Harry doubted he was meant to hear the man's musings, but he had. "Luckily, it is easy to keep from surfacing for a time."

Dumbledore drew his wand and gave a few artful flicks. With a finishing string of latin, crimson bands, tattoo like, formed around Harry's wrist, ankles, and his throat. It was impossible to bind an elemental's powers forever, but they could be contained for days at a time. The spell was an old one, usually used for a new elemental whose powers were beyond their control. For now though, it worked for a purpose of containment. After a few days, the binding would fade, and by that time, Harry would have fallen back into his intended roll. No more of the rebellion he'd been exhibiting, and no more resistance.

The fiery snake that was slithering across the floor immediately died with a painful hiss. Harry watched it with wide eyes and he shot the Headmaster a panicked, near pained, look. His fire was gone. Dumbledore took it. That bastard took his fire. Harry snarled at him and pulled hard enough against his chains for them to groan in protest. His eyes glowed with their own light and magic slid from his skin. His aura laid across the room like a heavy pressure. The mark the Dragon gave him was suddenly visible to the two wizards, glowing a faint shade of red.

"Give it back." He growled. "_Give it __**back**__!_"

The metal of the chains shrieked in protest to the sudden force on them. Dumbledore watched in disbelief. Those restraints had almost two dozen charms on them to prevent escape or breakage, and here the creature before him was succeeding in forcing them. Dumbledore raised his wand again, but Kingsley was quicker. The auror's fist collided with the side of the vampire's head, snapping it in the opposite direction and immediately expelling the oppressing aura. Blood dribbled out of the corner of Harry's mouth.

Hell. That's what this was. Hell. To be separated from his powers on a level where he could _feel_ it missing was nothing less than hell. It hurt far worse than anything he'd ever felt, and the pain resonated far deeper than any curse he'd come across. If felt more soul rending than that ritual he'd gone through to draw away Tom's horcurx. Harry hung limply in his chains.

"You're no better than what you're fighting against." He spoke softly, then his voice rose. "You're no better than Voldemort."

"All that I do, I do for the greater good." The Headmaster stated firmly in denial of Harry's words.

"Grindelwald said the same when he was committing genocide." Harry said as he spat blood on the floor.

Dumbledore jerked back as if he had been physically struck. Harry curled his lips back, sneering at the man. The elder looked pained, like he'd just been given the deepest of wounds that had nothing to do with cuts and bruises.

"Please Harry, let me save you. Tell me what you know, and this will all end."

Harry's face twisted into a cruel smile.

"You cannot save those who do not want to be saved. I would rather drown in my damnation than live in a world of your ideals."

"You leave me no choice then." Dumbledore turned and left, with Kingsley once again following behind. Harry watched them go without a sound or change in expression. He knew what he forgot now. It was what he'd always seemed to be forgetting since he'd returned to this time. He wasn't human, and he needed to stop acting like he was.

"I'll see you all dead." He promised to the empty room. "And you'll be last, Albus Dumbledore, so you can know the deaths of each of your followers before I finally make you beg for your end."

~..~

_A/N: Thanks once more to my reviewers. I always love to hear support for what I'm writing. Another special thanks to my beta._

_cobraqueen17: I thought I had mentioned (but maybe not) that his bindings were charmed to be spell resistant along with the possibility of element resistant. If not.... well, now you know. lol._


	16. Chapter 16

_**Gone**_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_The most dangerous follower is he whose defection would destroy the whole party: _

_that is to say, the best follower._

_~ Friedrich Nietzsche_

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.

.

.

The Slytherins were wary. It wasn't an entirely new feeling, but the object of that worry was. Harry Potter, declared neutral, had disappeared. None of them believed Dumbledore's lies about boy wonder being shipped off after his supposed recovery; they would have been fools to fall for such blatant untruths. They knew that the mudblood and the weasel knew something just by the way they were acting a day before the announcement, but they were unsure as to what. Draco was particularly irritated. His father had assigned a task. Keep an eye on the not-so-golden boy and report back anything of interest. While Potter's hospital stay earlier in the week didn't warrant a letter home, this did. He, along with the others of his house, knew that Potter would never just claim neutral and run back to the Light. The Gryffindor was entirely too honorable for that. There was something shady happening in the halls of Hogwarts, and they, the Slytherins, needed to find out what it was before it was too late.

"Draco?" Pansy's voice drew him out of his musings.

"What?"

"What do you think has happened?" She asked. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the plate of food in front of him in a contemplative manner.

"I think that they found out he was neutral, or that he was doing something they would consider dark, and they removed him entirely. I think that they're going to brainwash him or use something to wipe out any and all rebellious thoughts and it will be worse than it ever was before."

"Have you sent word to your father?" Blaise asked.

"I'm sending it out tonight. This just doesn't feel right."

"Yeah," Blaise nodded. "I know what you mean. Something about this feels underhanded."

"There have been more people in the dungeons as of late." Theodore spoke softly. Nott was the contact for the information that was gathered in by portraits and younger students. If something suspicious were happening at odd hours, he would likely know.

"The labyrinth?" Pansy asked. Theodore shook his head.

"No. Deeper." They all looked thoughtful at that. None of them had ever gone beyond the labyrinth of the dungeons. There had been no need to.

"You think they have Potter down there?" Blaise asked.

"They wouldn't..." But Pansy trailed off uncertainly.

"The way I see it," Draco said suddenly. "Is that we have a choice. We decide whether to help Potter or not, and then we decide whether to go down ourselves or send someone in our place."

"We should send someone else." Blaise said after he took a bite of food. "It would be best if they weren't even aware of Slytherin involvement."

"I agree. Send Longbottom and that Ravenclaw. They've been snooping around a lot. We'll just push them in the right direction." Theodore received several nods for the suggestion.

"I'll send word off to my father. He might have some more ideas about this. Crabbe, Goyle, let's go." Draco turned from the table and swept away from the great hall. The others watched him go, and then turned back to their food.

~..~

Lucius looked down at the letter in his hands with some amount of curiosity. Harry Potter had basically up and disappeared into the Headmaster's grasp, and the elder Malfoy had to agree with his son that something was afoot in the worst of ways. He'd only met the boy that once since his apparent change of sides, but even he could see that Potter wouldn't just change his mind. There had to be some kind of coercion involved. Threatening his friends was a possibility, but that was unlikely if the boy had only been using them for their little worth. Expulsion? Also a choice but just as unlikely in the end. He would have guessed the Imperious if he didn't know Potter could throw them. All the other possible spells and potions to alter minds were just as dark as the unforgivables, and he doubted the Light would lower and debase themselves in such a way. Torture then? But no, that was the same argument as his previous thought. There had to be something more to this. Force had obviously been used, that was inarguable, but there was something _more_. He apparated to the Dark Lord's manor.

"My Lord." Lucius greeted as he fell into a bow. Voldemort was sitting at a dark wooden desk with ministry blueprints spread before him.

"What is it, Lucius?" The man hissed.

"I come with news. It seems likely that Dumbledore has taken Potter into custody and claims him to be away on training." Crimson eyes flashed up to his and Lucius suppressed a flinch. Out of everything that he could not get used to seeing, it was the crimson eyes that bothered him the most. There was just something far more monstrous in those eyes than in any of the deeds the man had done. Or maybe it was because of the deeds the man had done.

"Tell me more of this."

"Supposedly Potter had stumbled across one of the gamekeeper's pets and was injured. He was kept in a quarantine room within the hospital wing for several days. Earlier today Dumbledore had announced that Potter would not be returning to class, but instead he'd been shipped out of the country to train with foreign contacts of the Headmaster. There has also been a note made in the letter I received that there has been an unusual amount of activity in the lower sections of the dungeons, beyond the labyrinth."

"Beyond it you say?" While phrased as a questioned, Voldemort didn't require an answer to it. He knew what lay beyond the winding corridors, courtesy of Jasper, and he chuckled darkly. "It seems that the Light side and the Dark side are not so different after all. That they would do this to their supposed 'savior' is amusing. I have a feeling that the boy will not claim his neutrality for long, and he will fall into his need for revenge."

"My Lord?" Lucius asked curiously.

"Ah, that's right, you don't know." Voldemort's lips curled into a dark smile as he decided to humor his minion. "Beyond the labyrinth is the true dungeons, used for what their name implies. Cells and torture rooms. I'm surprised that the old man who claims himself more moral than me would use them."

"Would you like anything done about this, My Lord?" Lucius asked with a bowed head.

"Hmm," Voldemort tapped his chin. "No, not from us. Tell your son to allow some of the boy's close allies to overhear him speaking of it. We can't risk exposure so soon. Now, get out." Lucius quickly did as bid and disappeared from the office.

Voldemort tapped a quill on a piece of parchment. It seemed that he would need any plans to get Harry Potter on his side. Dumbledore would do it for him by alienating his little tool. Then again, if he was willing to hold his favored pet and likely be torturing him, what other lengths was he willing to go to? Voldemort was keenly aware of the spells and potions that could be used to make one compliant with another's will. They all had disastrous side effects, but if you were willing to use them in the first place, those side effects wouldn't exactly matter.

Even so, if those potions and spells were used, it was of no real consequence. He would have preferred to have the boy on his side, but if that couldn't happen, then it was better that the boy was gone entirely. Dumbledore would think he was getting the perfect warrior, but all he would have is a mindless drone that would easily die. Such was the problem with the potion. There was _nothing_ in the mind of the victim any longer. No bravery, will, or need. And no self-preservation in any form. If dosed, Harry Potter wouldn't even move out of the way of a killing curse. Only those who had used such spells and potions would know this, however.

And what of Jasper? The vampire had told him that his and the boy's fates were linked together unless Jasper killed the boy by his own hand. So where was he during this whole fiasco? He wouldn't have just abandoned Potter, would he? Not unless he discovered a way to detach himself at least. Did Jasper even know what had happened? He couldn't be around the school to keep an eye out constantly, but surely he had been made aware of the situation by now... Even so, perhaps a short missive was in order. One that was under the guise of gathering information.

~..~

"What did your father say?" Theodore asked Draco as the blond read over the letter that was dropped into his lap with the morning mail.

"That we should be 'overheard' in a conversation by some Potter loyalists." Draco frowned for a moment before continuing on. "But with Loony and Longbottom sniffing around the dungeons anyway, I say we just point them in the right direction and stand back."

"And what if they get caught and we're found out?" Theodore shuffled around his eggs.

"I didn't say we would just walk up to them and tell them. What do you think I am, a Gryffindor?" Draco looked highly offended at the thought. "We'll just pass on a message. Get our contact in Hufflepuff to send it through some Ravenclaws to Loony."

"I'll set that up. Who will write the note?"

"I've got that charmed quill."

There was a drawn silence for a time until Theodore broke it.

"What do you think is going to happen now?"

"If Dumbledore and his dogs don't succeed in whatever they were trying to do... something very, very bad."

"For who?" He asked quietly.

"I don't know. I just hope that I'm not in the middle of it. There's been something off with Potter this year, something that I'm not really sure I want any part of." Especially that Darkness within him, Draco added silently to himself.

"But we _are_ going to be stuck in the middle. Right after we graduate."

"Then we better hope that it's over before then." They both turned back to their breakfast and began eating once more.

~..~

The Hufflepuff flipped the letter over in his hands once again and looked at the name addressed on the second envelope he had received. He was confused. Why the hell were the Slytherins sending notes to Loony Lovegood in the first place? And why did they need him to send it through several of the Ravenclaws before it found its way into the girl's hands? His face scrunched up in thought, but once he came up without a reason, he shrugged and continued on to class. He took a seat at the edge of the division in the Charms class and passed the envelope over.

"Move it around a bit before it gets to her, yeah?" The Ravenclaw, a boy with slim and almost feminine features nodded and slid the envelope into his pocket.

The rest of the day went on with the note changing hands nearly twelve times before it came to Luna. The blond seemed to look past the note for a time before finally picking it up and leaving to find Neville. This had to do with him, she knew, and it was far more efficient to have him there now rather than later. She found him on his way down to the great hall for dinner and pulled him off to the side.

"Luna?" He questioned.

She didn't say anything and instead chose to hand him the envelope she had received. Neville took it, his confusion obvious by the expression on his face, but he opened it nevertheless. Luna watched his brows furrow as he read it and the confusion was quickly replaced with an angry worry. He would understand, now, why she had pulled him into the dungeons so often.

"When are we doing this?"

"Tonight. Take only what is important to you."

"Luna?" There were a hundred questions conveyed when he said her name.

"We won't be returning for a long time, Neville." She said, and the Gryffindor nodded at this.

"No goodbyes?" He questioned softly, and the girl shook her head.

"No one can know." She replied just as quietly as he had. "I'm sorry." She apologized for the things he would lose after this.

~..~

Harry hung heavily in the manacles. His body hurt far too much to even attempt to alleviate the strain on his shoulders and chest, but even with his weak body, the intense glow of his eyes had yet to fade, the glamour on them having been stripped away. Slowly he called upon his magic. If Dragon could simply use the shadows to pass through layers and layer of wards, then he should be able to slip the fetters that held him. Dark forms slipped from the corners of the room, reaching across the floor towards him. The shades slid up the metal links of chain and started to wrap around his body. A feeling like thick heavy mist with more substance settled on him and tugged gently. It was an unusual sensation, like nothing he had ever felt, and the closest he could come to comparison was that ocean of darkness he'd floated in not long after he was murdered.

Before, his trips through the shadows had been quick, almost instantaneous. This time he'd looked out to a world different than the one he was used to. There was no color here. It was like being stuck in an old black and white movie. The shadows, which had constantly looked shapeless, shifted into endless forms of animals and creatures as they pulled him from his bindings and set him on the floor. They backed away, and his world alighted back to colors that seemed far more vibrant after being without them even for a short time.

It was a painful process to get to his feet and stagger to the door. His ribs were still broken, bruises had formed, and there was an ache in his abdomen that likely spoke of internal damage. He grimaced. His body had substituted the need for blood with magic, but efficient healing needed the blood. His abilities could only go so far on their own. He was on his own, injured and in pain until he could get to a source of blood. Harry used the wall to keep himself upright as he headed to the door. Another call to the shadows for help had the shades appearing and pulling him through the door and all the wards placed on it. He passed through the door and was released from their soft hold. His legs gave as the world shifted once more. He flinched and braced himself as much as he was able to for the impact against the stone floor. It was a surprise when he was caught. He looked up, hoping that the Order hadn't assigned guards outside the door.

"Neville? Luna?" His voice was weak. He hated it.

"It's alright, Harry, we'll get you out." Neville's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Hurry!" Neither of the boys had heard Luna's voice so urgent before. "Someone is coming."

Neville hoisted Harry up into his arms with a soft apology, and he quickly followed Luna's light steps as she darted down the hall. The jostling aggravated Harry's wounds further, and it was all he could do to not make a sound as he was carried.

"Where are we going, Luna?" Neville asked quietly. He'd not known any more than that they needed to get outside and onto the grounds.

"The forest."

They passed no one in their hurry through the twisted halls of Hogwart's dungeons. An alarm hadn't even been raised when Harry's presence in the room had assuredly been missed, or if there were an alarm, it wasn't an obvious one. Luna sent a curse to the thick entrance doors of the school that threw them open.

"Quickly, they wouldn't have missed that." She called and then pointed off to the forest. "There! Run!"

Voices echoed in the school behind them as they tore off over the grounds. Several spell flew by them, barely missing and nearly causing Neville to trip and drop the burden he carried. They burst through the tree line, immediately enveloped by the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The calls of their pursuers became frantic as they lost sight of the three students. Luna didn't even hesitate to jump up and mount a dark skeletal horse.

"Give him to me and hop on that one." The blond gestured for Harry and pointed to another of the beasts right next to the one she had seated herself on.

"What are these?" He asked.

"Thestrals." She answered. "To Azkaban."

With that both of the animals threw themselves into the air and spread their wings. Luna gave a serene smile as she ran a pale hand through Harry's hair. It had finally started.

~..~

"How did he get out?" Albus roared in question. "I was the only one able to open the cuffs he was held with, so how did he escape?"

Alastor watched Dumbledore pace around the office with no small amount of amusement. This was a bad situation, no doubt about it, but that didn't mean that the retired Auror could take no joy from the other's frustration. Albus growled out a few theories as to the escape while Alastor stood off to the side. How the lad had escaped was nothing as opposed to how they were going to get him back. Not to mention all of the other problems that came with who this particular captive was.

"No one can know about this." Dumbledore suddenly changed gears. "As far as the world knows, Harry Potter has recovered fully and was sent to a foreign training facility."

"And how do you plan to substantiate that? What if the boy suddenly appears? What will you do then?"

"We don't need to substantiate anything. It's just an old friend doing me a favor. It's doubtful that he'll suddenly appear either. Where would he go? Everyone he knows he is either enemies with or is too close to the Order. It's far more likely that he'll retreat to wherever he was during the summer months."

"How do you plan on getting him back?"

"I don't know, but we need to work quickly. If word got out that Harry has defected, it would tear the Light side entirely apart and make for an excellent recruitment statement for the Dark. The war would be lost before it really has begun."

"Has he defected?"

"I doubt that it is to the extent of joining Voldemort, but even for him to fall neutral would devastate us."

"This is what happens when you give a child so much political power." Alastor pointed out.

"He was never supposed to go beyond my sphere of influence. This was never supposed to happen."

"Aye, but no one ever plans for these things to go wrong. I'll never understand why you had the boy as a pivotal role in your personal war."

"You know as well as I that I had no choice."

"The prophecy." Moody nodded. "It was no reason, however, to put such power in his hands, give him a choice to kill or watch the world burn. You gave him too much free reign and now it comes back to bite you in the ass."

"I am aware of my failings, Alastor."

"So you say, but you made the same ones before, didn't you?" It was a low blow for Moody, but he wasn't wrong. Actions that were nearly identical had resulted in the creation of one monster, and now they had birthed another.

"I will not have that discussion again. What's done is done. We need to work on what will happen now."

Moody chuckled. It was very like Albus to want to ignore mistakes of such a catastrophic nature. But then, no one wanted to claim that they were directly related to the rise of Voldemort. They would be strung up by an angry mob as soon as word got around.

"I think the boy will go straight to you-know-who."

"No. The man murdered his parents, Harry would never forgive that."

"He doesn't have to forgive the man to work with him."

Dumbledore waved his words away. "Harry doesn't have the deep-seated ruthlessness or need for revenge to set aside hatred that has been planted and fed for years."

"That was before you locked him in a cell, tortured him, used truth serum on him, and basically threatened his execution. I've seen better men than Potter lose their humanity for less."

"It would go against his very nature." Dumbledore denied.

"No, it used to go against his nature. Have you already forgotten that the boy is a vampire? A fairly strong one as well, to escape notice for so long. Bloodshed is a vital part of him now. You're better off not even considering him Potter anymore. The only thing similar between Potter and this animal are their looks and memories."

Albus dropped tiredly into his chair with a heavy sigh.

"So what's the plan then? How can this still work?" Dumbledore asked to himself, but Moody answered.

"Find him, catch him, and use those potions that we were planning to when we had him. After that, it will be easy in comparison."

"Can I trust you with this job, Alastor?" Albus asked, but it was a question that didn't need a voiced reply.

~..~

Hooves touched down on the rock shore of the prison island Azkaban. Neville quickly slid off his mount to take Harry from Luna so she could do the same. He was beaten to her by three vampires and a fourth was quickly approaching.

"My Lord." The fourth vampire took Harry from Luna's arms and he turned to the other three. "Get a few prisoners ready for feeding. Quickly now, go!" He turned back to Neville and Luna with a critical gaze. "You two will follow me. Do as I say and I won't throw you into a cell. Come with me." He jerked his head in the direction of the prison.

Jean-Claude only paid the humans that trailed behind him half a thought as he rushed through the halls of the prison and headed down to the city. He ignored the boy's awed gasp of surprise and the girl's comments of swigglepuffs. He disregarded the worried looks that were given to the vampire that lay limply in his arms. He wanted to know what had happened, what had gone wrong and who needed to be killed, but that would have to wait until his Lord was out of danger of being put into a coma. Vampires could survive just about anything short of carving out their heart or severing the head entirely from the body, but certain factors combined could lead to enough trauma that would shut down even a vampire's powerful mind. Jean-Claude had personally seen several cases where the vampires never came to again, and it was considered a mercy to kill them.

Jean-Claude kicked open the door to one of the few comfortably furnished rooms that was in the center building which passed through all of the levels of the First City. He smoothly laid Harry out on the large bed just as the three vampires who had gone to the shore with him drug in a prisoner each. He waved the first over to him.

"Cut the wrist but don't make it to deep. No deaths." He then turned to the humans who had come with his Lord. "You will explain what has happened." He ordered.

Luna nodded casually and took a seat on the small sofa that was also in the room. She pulled Neville down to sit next to her.

"The Headmaster discovered that Harry was a vampire. He was captured and questioned. When he refused to answer whether he was involved with Azkaban or how he escaped from his relatives, they tortured him for the information. They were planning something when we escaped, but I don't know what, exactly."

"How do you know this?" Jean-Claude asked darkly.

"The Glitterclaws told me so."

Jean-Claude was going to respond but quickly turned away back towards the bed with his Lord on it. They were feeding Harry from the third of the prisoner. The bruising was slowly fading, but there wasn't any movement from the unconscious vampire except for the convulsive swallowing of the blood that was dripped into his mouth. Jean-Claude took a stand at the bedside and peered down on to Harry's face. The darker was showing no sign of waking. His lips pulled into a concerned frown. Hopefully it was a recovering rest and not a coma like he feared.

"Until he wakes, you shall not be harmed." The vampire's eyes flashed. "But if he doesn't wake at all, you will be the first two to die."

~..~

Snape looked into the mirror. It was the easiest way to get a good look at his newest mark. It was simple in design, thick black thorns twisting around a bright red feather. What he had thought was just bruising around the initial wound had formed into his next brand of ownership. In being honest with himself, he could almost say he deserved this one. It had been foolish of him to act so impulsively. He had predicted the vampire's reaction to be violent, an action that would steal his life. Now, he would be living with his folly for some time to come. There were just some days that he had wished that the Dark Lord discovered his treachery and killed him early on.

Severus sighed, running his thumb over the red feather before dropping his hand despondently. His life just wasn't going well. Not that it ever had. He'd always seemed to have a run of bad luck and driving away anything good that came along. It was a curse, he supposed, and it was likely to end as a curse would as well. He had no positive future outlooks, even when that vampire had promised them. There were three things that Voldemort didn't suffer: fools, rivals, and traitors. Snape got two out of three. To think this all started with a muggle-born girl he'd loved.

He slipped on one of his dark button up shirts before pulling on his robe. Albus had called together a small team, of which he was included, to gather information on where Potter could have disappeared to. Personally, Snape thought it was a futile effort. If the boy could hide out for the entire length of summer without even a passing rumor about his whereabouts, then what chance did they have now, on a limited schedule? Because, despite what Albus planned, it was limited.

The Headmaster's story of him leaving off school for training would buy the press for a short time, but those who were around him more often: students, teachers, and order members, would know differently. They would let it go at first simply because it was Dumbledore who told them, but suspicions won't be quelled forever just by one man's voice. Snape could almost admit that he was eager to see the fallout. Potter's choices in alliance could very well destroy the Light side of this war, and Snape couldn't exactly say that he would be sad to see it go. All that really held him here was a promise made.

~..~

A week had passed. Seven days and seven nights without movement from Harry. His magic, however, was very active. Cassandra had proclaimed that a good sign, that the magic was trying to wake him and would very likely succeed since magic had such an intimate connection with its user. He was watched over continuously, always looked over for any signs of consciousness or awakening. Another week passed, and soon another. And another, until it had almost been two months since Harry had been rescued. The vampires watched on with a dying hope.

Luna was still her calm and serene self, completely unconcerned with the passage of time and what it could mean for both her and Neville if Harry didn't wake. Neville, however, wasn't so stoic. He wasn't the type to rant and rave about his possible fate, and nor was he the type to hide in the corner and cry his eyes out. No, Neville fidgeted to a nearly compulsive level. Some part of him was always in motion, and this constant movement had served to give the single vampire guard watching over them a nervous tick.

Jean-Claude had been busy blaming himself for this particular catastrophe. Harry had fallen out of contact frequently, but there had always been a post script in his letters that would mention possibility or reason for the lapse in communications. It had been happening so often as of late, that the vampire hadn't even questioned the lack of notice and chalked it up to forgetfulness in the face of more important things. Now though, he knew the truth and was drowning himself in guilt for his failure.

"You have until the end of this month." Jean-Claude informed the two humans within their midst. "After this month, it has been decided that we will send My Lord on. Say what prayers you need and prepare yourselves." The blond vampire had left them alone after that announcement.

He knew that it wasn't necessarily the young humans' fault, but if that blond girl had informed them of the capture earlier, it would have never had happened. And so, due to her willful silence, he would kill her. Then afterwards, he and others would prepare an assault upon the school and take it apart brick by brick until there was little more left than a hole in the ground. He, or any of the others, would not take this attack on their Lord lightly. Revenge would be their only solace for such a failure.

~..~

Harry was once again drifting in that endless ocean of black. It was far less worrisome the second time around. It was like floating on a calm lake that went on forever in all directions without hint of touching land. The water, if it could be called that, began to rise and fall in gentle waves, rocking him back and forth in a surprisingly soothing motion. He let himself relax into the movement, enjoying the feeling of being held by shadows as they tenderly covered him. There wasn't any desire to leave their hold, and they pacified his troubles. It was nice here. Calm. He almost didn't want to go back to his life, but he, and the shadows, knew that he couldn't stay for eternity like they both wanted. Perhaps when he was tired of his life, but not now.

Whispered voices came to him. Too soft, at first, to make out what they were saying. After a time, they grew louder, and he understood. The words were like nothing he'd heard, but he knew what they were saying, what they were giving him, saying it was Her will that he learn. He listened closely, taking it all in. Languages, some he'd spoken. some he didn't, seemed to be impressed into his memory. Places he hadn't seen. Animals he'd never heard of. Symbols whose meaning was beyond grasp. Rituals that he could only guess the need for. Spells. Ingredients for potions. Creatures and their individual magic. They spoke and the information laid itself in layers across his mind.

It hurt, the intake of information all at once too much for even a vampire's brain, but the things he learned... He'd heard the saying that knowledge was power, but this had a whole new meaning to it. The sheer extent of the information he'd acquired was simply astounding. It was in the little things, too, that he realized how much this would aid him. Being a vampire had never really been second nature to him. The abilities and agelessness were all that he could find within himself.

Things that a Sire should have taught him were never learned, and now he had the chance. He'd never known how to recognize those of a Royal line or how others saw it in him, but he did now. Those subtle currents of magic that would mean nothing to a wizard were now like bright starbursts of data for the world around him. He'd thought that acute senses only extended to the physical plane (hearing, touch, taste, smell, sight) and he never realized how deaf and blind he was metaphysically. It was only his ability to tap into his instinctive behavior at such a level that he'd been able to survive for so long.

Slowly Harry became aware of himself. In a sense, at least. It was sort of like watching a movie without actually seeing it. One that you know so well that, simply by the lines alone, you know what is happening in the picture. Occasionally, he would receive a sensation that was other to his state of mind, like the brush of a cool hand on his face or the warmth of fresh blood in his mouth, but it would quickly disappear and the voices would once again rise to speak to him.

_"You have done well to escape, serpent."_ The hiss was low, drawn out, and had a distinctly feminine feel to it. Harry abruptly sat up, ignoring the impossibility of such an action when he was drifting on dark waves. Dragon rose at his feet, her eyes somehow shining darker than the blackness that surrounded them. _"This pleases me, little king."_

_"Where am I?" _

_"Do you not recognize it?"_ She hissed a laugh that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. _"Come now, you have been here before, have you not?"_

_"I have."_ He agreed. _"But that still doesn't tell me where I am."_

_"This place is nowhere and everywhere. It can be called a border between this life and the next, a connecting of the two plains of existence."_

_"So this place is like a doorway?"_

Dragon looked amused by the comparison and gave him a smile that was full of sharp white teeth that glistened in the non-light.

_"Not quite, little king. Between each world there is a space, for if the worlds touched, then they would fall into each other and both would be destroyed. This is that space. You can pass through this if you are knowledgeable in such ways of travel. For others, for mortals, it is a crossing to the other side."_

_"So I can go to the other side from here?"_

She gave him that amused look once more before laughing. It was a bell like sound, soft and tinkling and misdirecting. Dragon was dangerous, something he could never forget. Harry was struck with another realization of her. While she was the beginning, she had never been a human. She had been born something else entirely. Or maybe 'born of' was a better phrase. She bent down and carded a hand through his hair, much like one would do to a child.

_"There shall be no 'other side' for you, little king. You shall never pass beyond these shadows. You are bound to them by your blood, king of the serpent line. For your ability to give life, you have sacrificed your death."_

_"My mother..."_ He trailed off in question. If the line of Anguis could not die, then what of his mother? How was it that she was struck down?

_"The rituals of my children are damning things. She shred her soul in an effort to save yours. Your mother exists no more and never will again. She is lost to the sands of time."_ Dragon's laugh was cruel now, her once gentle fingers twisting in his hair pulling harshly. Harry couldn't feel the pain her actions caused. It was faint, nothing, to the knowledge of his mother destroying her own soul to save his.

_"And the others of Anguis?"_ He asked, almost fearing the answer.

_"Their human hearts weighed them so, and they cast their own souls to the winds. They could never forget what they used to be, and so, they grieved and fell. They failed where you succeeded. You remembered what you are, what you were reborn as, and with my gift, I have taken that which made you so weak."_

_"My emotions?"_ Her hands suddenly gentled again and cradled his face between them.

_"An impossibility, though I've tried. No, I have taken your grief, your sadness, your regret, from you. You will ask forgiveness from no one."_

_"Why me?"_ He wanted to feel sad at the loss of some of his ability to feel, but as she had already taken it from him, he just felt nothing at all.

_"It is in your hand I leave my children. Too long have I been awake, watching this world for the one who could stand in my place. It is time for me to rest, and you shall fill what I have left. I am the Mother and you are now the Father. Once more will our race become whole with you at the lead."_

He couldn't speak. The air halted in his lungs, and he fell into a stillness that was unachievable by living creatures. Harry looked like a statue sitting there, staring up at her in disbelief. She started her petting again, elegant fingers pulling through his dark hair.

_"It is time to stop hiding who, and what, you are."_ He felt the glamours pulled from him. Long, gently waved hair tumbled down his back. His skin lightened to that near luminescent white that was only found in vampires, and his eyes brightened, shining gold. _"I have deemed your other mortal calling acceptable. You are to be known to them as Jasper Anguis. No more is Harry Potter. That mortal has died, and will remain as such."_

He nodded in acceptance. It was better that way. Harry Potter had been a child, just a boy, and he'd been crushed under the weight of things that a boy couldn't have possibly understood.

_"It is time for you to wake."_ And he did.

~..~

Gold eyes snapped open as if from a blink and not waking from a near three month coma. He sat up slowly to find himself nude beneath dark silk sheets. It didn't bother him as it would have in the past. He slipped from the bed and stood. The currants on the air told him where he was. Somehow Luna and Neville had managed to get him to Azkaban, or at least they had alerted the vampires to bring him to the city. A pair of black slacks was thrown over the back of an uncomfortable looking chair, and he pulled them on before stepping out of the room. He ran into Jean-Claude in the hall.

"My Lord?" His voice was higher than usual and surprise darted across his feature. "You are awake! How do you feel?"

"Well. How long was I asleep?"

"Near on three months, my Lord."

"That long." He mused. "Tell me what has happened in my... absence."

"Word has come that Dumbledore has a small search party looking for you, and anything tying Harry Potter to us, or any other clans, has been completely obliterated. Since your confinement we have taken measures that all our agents have access to escape means. The Dark Lord Voldemort remains hidden and gathering his followers. He sent a missive the day after you arrived that questioned the disappearance of Harry Potter. The Ministry continues to slander Potter and Dumbledore's names, but otherwise they've done nothing else. Meanwhile, the city is slowly being repaired and the homes furnished. We have had to bring in more food, willing servants, but we are having trouble getting in human necessary supplies."

"And the state of our spy?"

"We have found nothing. My apologies, my Lord."

He waved away Jean-Claude's apology.

"I shall need a blade, and battle robes as well."

"My Lord?" The blond questioned.

"There are things to be done, and they are done much easier with a blade in hand."

"Of course." Jean-Claude nodded. "What colors shall your robes be?"

"Red, the color of the Anguis line."

Jean-Claude's eyes widened minutely as he realized what that meant. His Lord was ready to take his place and lead them. A smile stole over his face as he fell into a formal bow, one that he had used with previous Lords and Ladies of the Royal lines.

"As you will my Lord."

"Now, about those two who were with me..." He trailed off in question.

"The humans?"

"Yes. Where are they?"

"We have kept them in one of the near-by quarters."

"And their health?"

"As they came."

"Good."

Jean-Claude lead him through several halls before they came to a closed door. The blond knocked twice, and the door swung open. They both stepped into the room, and the two humans immediately looked up.

"Harry?" Neville asked hesitantly.

"Not quite anymore, Neville. I go by Jasper now." He turned to look at Luna. "How are you both?"

"We're fine." Neville answered. Luna just watched him with a small smile. "So what's going to happen to us?"

"You'll be staying here." He answered.

"I- I really don't want to be food, Harry."

"Jasper, please, and you won't be food. You'll be like me." He could sense Neville's and Jean-Claude's surprise in that statement, but Luna was still smiling. "You already knew." He accused the blond girl.

"They told me that's the way it would be." She seemed to be looking at something else now. "They said that Neville and I would have important abilities."

"What abilities?"

"Neville is very like the earth. Plants just spring to life around him, and it calls to his magic."

"And you?"

"Won't you guess? The Nargles would be ever so disappointed if you don't."

Jasper watched her with narrowed eyes, and then he understood.

"Animals. The master of beasts."

Luna gave a pleased smile.

~..~

_A/N: Thanks to those of whom reviewed. I was surprised at the response to the last chapter. And a big thanks to my beta as well, who not only corrects the grammar, but gives me ideas too._

_Raven: Yes, I've gotten a lot of reviews that don't like the fact that I've portrayed Harry as less than he really is. There was a very good reason for that… or, okay, not a good reason, but it worked from a writing standpoint. I didn't want this story going too fast. So I decided that, because he was playing human, he would essentially forget what he truly was. Chapter 14, 15, and 16 were actually transitional chapters from weak human Harry to bad-ass vampire Harry/Jasper. So now you, and everyone else, can expect a more vampiric, bordering sociopath, Harry. I also didn't take this as a flame at all. It was criticizing, but you gave reasons as to why that was, and that makes the difference between an opinionated review and a flame, so I thank you for that._


	17. Chapter 17

_**Covert Operations**_

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_Secrecy is the first essential in affairs of the State._

_~ Cardinal de Richelieu_

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There were two altars; both draped in silks of a different color settled on a stone dais. The one on the left was covered in shades of green and brown that somehow blended together nicely. It was upon this one that Neville lay, struggling to remain motionless though he was tempted to fidget out of nervousness. The second held hues of blue upon it; the long swaths of fabric hanging down to caress the floor. Luna was calmly seated upon this one and watching everything being prepared around them. Several vampires were having a hushed conversation in the corner, and two other vampires dragged in two people with them. The two people, humans for they couldn't possibly be anything else looking so weak and frail compared to the ones holding them, were shackled at the wrist to the wall.

Jasper entered the room then, quickly followed by Jean-Claude who was talking to him softly. The vampire lord was clothed in a red that shimmered and dropped to different shades as he walked, and he appeared to be listening intently to what the blond was saying. Jasper shook his head and stepped up onto the dais. He glanced over at Luna before deciding that talking to Neville first would be more prudent. The Gryffindor looked about ready to slip his skin.

"How are you feeling?"

"I- I'm alright." Neville spoke, trying to convey confidence when he felt none.

"It's alright to be nervous, Neville." Jasper gave pause and waited for the slight relaxation in the other before continuing. "You don't have to do this if you don't want it."

Neville's hands fidgeted in the ceremonial robes he wore, plucking at the cuffs. He was uneasy, that was easy enough to admit, and that reaction made sense since this was, technically, his death.

"No. It's just that – well, I'm dying."

"Don't think of it as dying, think of it as being reborn. You likely won't change that much. You'll still have your beliefs and the same values."

Neville nodded and finally seemed to relax fully into the silk beneath him. Jasper returned his nod and moved over to Luna. She looked up at him from her seated position and then slowly slid across her own silks to lie down.

"You ready, Luna?" She just gave him another of her smiles. He nodded to her.

"Alright, let's begin." He addressed those in the room.

All the vampires took a knee at the foot of the dais and looked up at him, their own ceremonial robes dragging across the stone floor. To Jasper, this all seemed extremely formal, but then, his own turning was almost accidental. He turned to Neville first once again and began the ceremony.

"Neville Longbottom, you have surrendered yourself, mind, body, soul, and magic to us, the Clans of Vampyre. You enter among us, seeking to join our lines. You enter unknowing of your fate, and place your life in Our Mother's hands. Rest easy and know that, even if you die, it shall be a passing of peace to your next life." Jasper grasped Neville's wrist gently and raised it to his mouth, biting into the flesh and drinking the blood that rushed to the surface. He pulled away once enough blood was taken, and taking a ritual blade from the sash at his waist, slit open his own wrist. "Drink of me and begin the path to truly joining as one of our brothers."

Neville latched on to the bleeding wound like a babe would its mother breast. Jasper held patiently as blood was pulled from him, not even flinching as blunt human teeth worked at the laceration to draw more blood. Slowly, and gently, Jasper pulled away, helping Neville to lie down as his body was suddenly wracked by fierce, fiery pain. Jasper turned to Luna now, and began the words once again, and beginning her transformation to becoming a vampire as well.

Jasper watched, transfixed, as their bodies arched in pain. He remembered none of his own transformation, not even the pain that the two before him were experiencing, and everything after that was just snatches of memory, like the sound of screams and blood, lots of blood. He listened closely to the frantic fluttering of their hearts as the organs struggled, futilely, against the invasion of vampire toxin and blood, and he waited patiently until the beat in their chests were silent and still. Their hearts faltered in their rhythm and seemed to finally slow before finally stopping.

He gestured to two of the vampires that were kneeling at the dais, and they immediately rose to gather the two humans who were, by now, watching the proceedings in horrified fascination. All of the others took to their feet and waited. It took time for newborns to gain control, but with enough blood and a higher echelon vampire to mentor them, they were fairly subdued… if not a little easy to agitate and turn violent. The two vampires who held the humans pushed their captives so they were left leaning over the altars with their necks stretched as their heads were pulled back by firm grips in their hair.

Neville's eyes snapped open, exposing a golden brown that shone like a topaz. He lurched forward without thought and dug new fangs into the soft tissue before him. The man screamed hysterically in pain and tried to frantically pull away. The guard held him tightly, and soon his struggles became feeble as life was drained from him entirely. Neville released him once his heart stopped pumping blood through his veins. Luna was in the same state, finishing off her own victim only a few seconds later than him. Both of the newborns looked upon the crowd before them. Then they looked to their maker.

"Welcome, brother and Lord Terre. Welcome, sister and Lady Fiara." Jasper stated with a formal air. The other vampires murmured their welcome as well. He turned to the guards holding the two bodies and felt nothing for the loss of life. "Dispose of the bodies and return to your normal duties. You," He gestured to two others. "Take them to their rooms. See that their needs are met."

They did as bid, and the room was quickly cleared of everyone save Jasper and Jean-Claude. A frown marred Jasper's face, and he touched his chin in thought. From what he understood, those of royal lines were supposed to disappear, go back in time and learn. So why hadn't Neville and Luna left in a flash of light much like he had oh so long ago? He turned to face the vampire that might have the answers to that question.

"Why did they not go back in time?"

"I am unsure, my Lord." The blond looked just as confused as Jasper. "It has always been that way. I know of no reason why it should change now."

"Any theories?"

"It may be because they are truly the start of a new line and not simply a successor to one remaining."

"But the Earth line and the Beast line are still royal lines. Shouldn't the magic of the change recognize that?"

"But magic is what erased those lines from the world as well." Jean-Claude pointed out. Jasper nodded in acceptance.

"I suppose that this result should be expected for the next ones chosen?"

"Very likely. If I may, my Lord?" He asked and Jasper waved him on with his question. "How do you know that the Earth and Beast lines were of the lost clans?"

Jasper stilled for a moment and then turned towards the vampire he'd come to view as a trusted advisor.

"I have had access to some information that names the Thirteen Clans as well as details my own line's abilities. That is all I will say on the matter."

"As you wish." The blond bowed his head.

"Now, I have a slave bonding to complete."

~..~

Jasper lay upon a low slung branch just inside the Forbidden Forest, one leg perched up to support his arm and the other swung slowly in the night time breeze. He looked beyond the twisted branches and new leaves to the castle beyond, his eyes tracing the windows and tops of the towers. Ever so softly he began to hum, tilting his head back so that it rested against the thick, aged trunk. His magic rose with the beat, pulsing and swaying to the rhythm that worked from his throat. He was calling. This magic wasn't truly like the siren's, but it was close with its ability to enthrall from a distance. What was even better was that only the targeted would come. No one else could hear the subtle notes on the wind. It didn't take long for a dark clothed figure to make way their across the grounds. Were the situation different, Jasper might admit to being impressed by the man's resistance to the call.

Snape's halting steps finally brought him to the forest and to beneath the tree that Jasper sat in. The vampire looked down at Snape's pained expression. It obviously hurt him to try and fight the call. His faux siren magic didn't hypnotize people like a true siren's would. Their minds could still fight while their bodies continued on without them. It was very much like the Imperious in that aspect. Jasper dropped gracefully out of the tree and landed on the ground without a sound. Snape flinched at his appearance and seemed to rock back slightly, but moving was hard with a body that wouldn't obey.

"Pleasure to see you, Severus." Jasper gave a beatific smile. "Do try and cooperate, won't you." But really, the potion's teacher didn't even have the option of disobeying a direct order like that.

A swift hand motion from the vampire stripped the professor of his thick outer robe and shirt, leaving his upper body bare. Jasper's gaze flashed briefly over the numerous scars that were splashed across the other's torso, but he paid them no mind, already having a good guess as to their origin. Being a Death Eater wasn't conducive to a whole, healthy body, after all. His eyes drifted over to the mark that had formed on the dour man's skin. Jasper slashed open his palm and, squeezing his hand, completely coated the appendage in blood. He pressed a bloody handprint right over the mark.

"If only you hadn't complicated this so, Snape. You could have saved yourself some modicum of freedom and myself some work. I suppose though, that this was the best solution in the long run. You really can't be trusted on your own, can you?" He mused with a somewhat condescending tone, finding the irony in the situation; no doubt Snape had thought the same of him. Jasper cupped his hand, letting some blood pool within it before the wound completely healed, and then he started the finer points of the ritual.

"To hide your secrets from all but your master." He spoke as he painted a symbol in the center of the man's forehead. "To hear that which your master must know." Another symbol, one in front of each ear. "To hold your master's secrets." One on the left cheek. "To tell the enemies plans." Another on the right cheek. "To tie you to your master's will." At the base of the throat. "For true loyalty to your master, faith unwavering." Over the heart. "For life until your master releases your service." The final one just beneath the sternum.

The blood glowed, lighting a crimson hue on the pale skin. The thorn wrapped feather flashed just once. Then the blood seeped into the skin and faded away. Jasper smiled once again and took a step back. There, it was done now. There would be no more worry about what side Snape was truly on.

"Return to your duties, Severus. I will contact you if I find anything of importance." He waved the man away. Now he could slip in to the man's head whenever the whim struck. He would have full access to all the memories and information that the spy could gather even if he were held under oath for some of it. Such was the beauty of a slave bond, though the slave would disagree. Jasper watched the man disappear into the school before he turned towards the forest. "I suppose I haven't seen Tom in a while." The shadows pulled him away.

~..~

"Tom." Jasper sidestepped a cruciatus. "I see someone has had a bad time of it."

"Don't just come in here unannounced." The Dark Lord snarled as he put away his wand and picked back up the quill he'd dropped upon Jasper's sudden entrance.

"My apologies." He said mockingly. "What are you working on?" He leaned over Tom's shoulder to look at the paper work. There were several orders of execution, invasion plans, and personnel files before the man. "Don't you have minions for this?"

"Most are incompetent and the ones who _are_ trustworthy with such things have other mission priorities." Voldemort scribbled off a few lower tier orders. "Where have you been anyway? I had expected your annoying presence near the beginning of February if not the end of January."

"I ran into a bit of trouble." Jasper laid his hand on Tom's shoulders and easily felt the tenseness of the muscles beneath his hands. "What has happened that's got you so tense?"

Voldemort sighed, let go of the quill, and let his head fall back onto the chair. Jasper stroked his cheek and throat gently.

"All right, Tom?"

"Must you call me that?" He sighed again.

Jasper smiled and leaned down so that his arms fell over Tom's shoulders and folded over his chest. "I like your name. It just falls of the tongue so easily." Then his voice lowered in to something sultry. "It's so much easier to scream as well."

Voldemort gave a husky chuckle. "I suppose I cannot argue that point."

"Tom?" It wasn't normal that Voldemort avoided answering in this way. Usually if he didn't want to answer, he would just say so.

"There's so much to muddle through. That idiot minister and the muggle loving fool have practically destroyed all of the wizarding holidays. There is no longer a Samhain or a Beltane. We follow the holidays of which whose followers once hunted us and tried to burn us at the stake. They call us archaic and destroy our way of life, and no one but the Dark Wizards resolve to try and save the old ways. On top of that the segregation they promote between pureblooded wizards, the destruction of ancient 'dark' artifacts, destruction of knowledge, and laws forbidding arts that have been used for a millennia."

"And what do you plan to do? You must realize by now that it will be impossible to exterminate all the muggles and muggle-born."

"I know now that the muggle-born could be a boon to the pureblood lines, but only after a few generations of them having children with other muggle-born. Otherwise, their muggle blood will kill off our magic, especially in the dark inclined lines."

"They'll essentially be first generation purebloods," Jasper nodded. "But can the pureblood lines survive that long without detriment? They've essentially bred themselves into a corner."

"If some of the foreign lines were introduced."

"You work too hard." Jasper said as he spun the chair around so Voldemort's back was to the desk. He kneeled down, leaned forward, and wrapped his arms about Voldemort's middle.

"At times." He agreed.

A comfortable silence stretched between them, Jasper not moving from his position though it was uncomfortable, and Tom enjoying the warmth of the arms that held him. Affection wasn't something he could enjoy often as the natural paranoia of his position prevented it, but he had nothing to fear from his present companion. There wasn't any way that the vampire could usurp his position. The purebloods in his reign would never stand to be lead by a vampire, despite how many of them may have that heritage in their lines.

"I'm going to be staying for a time."

Voldemort just nodded, not even bothering to comment upon the fact that he was being told what was going to happen. It was no point in arguing with the vampire. Jasper always got what he wanted. Point in fact: Voldemort was being held in his arms despite the resolution he made to have no contact with the other until all was explained about his past and connection to Harry Potter.

"No protestations?" Jasper asked, and Voldemort could feel the smile.

"There would be no point. You do as you will."

"And I was prepared to argue my way and convince you."

"How long are you staying this time?"

"I'll be in and out, but at least until July."

"Don't you have a home?" Tom asked plaintively.

"Home is wherever you are."

"Hufflepuff." Tom snorted.

~..~

Tom and Jasper were conversing quietly in the Dark Lord's study. Nagini was draped across Jasper's lap and bathing in the attention the vampire was giving her. Nagini and Jasper both turned to look at the door before the knock came, able to feel that someone was approaching.

"Enter."

Lucius stepped in and Draco was directly at his heels.

"Your son, Lucius?"

"Forgive me My Lord, I had no time to leave him at the manor after taking him from the school." Lucius bowed low at the waist.

Jasper continued his petting. This was interesting. He hadn't known that the greetings were different when in front of a large group and in private. Tom was usually the type to get off on subservience and others on their knees. And after a moment reviewing his thoughts, Jasper realized how poor a choice of words that had been.

"What has happened at the school that you would withdraw your son?"

"Dumbledore has brought in several people that are suspected of working for the Order. Word has quickly traveled within the school of interrogations looking for any information that might lead to the capture of Harry Potter."

"I see. How was this discovered?"

"Severus Snape."

"Oh?" Voldemort said with some surprise. "I had been so sure of his standings." His gaze flicked to the vampire that was leaning back with a smug smile on his face. "What do you know of this, Jasper?"

"You won't have to worry about his loyalties any longer. He is truly of the dark now."

Voldemort frowned slightly at the non-answer but turned back to Lucius.

"What has already been done?"

"Nothing but pulling my son out claiming a family emergency."

"I see." And then he drifted off in thought.

"_You should leak it to the papers."_ Jasper's sudden hiss caused a jolt in the other occupants of the room except for Nagini. The look Tom gave him was enough of a hint to make him continue with his idea. _"This is obviously an illegal, unsanctioned operation. If it got out in the press that there was even a possibility of it's truth… well, suffice to say the old man would be busy for quite some time dealing with the fall out. That and it would hide the agents you have in the other houses."_

"_And in the meantime? Our source?"_

"_Snape wouldn't have said anything if he could be caught, and for the meantime,"_ Jasper sent Lucius a sly look. _"I believe something could be found that would cause concern for the Board. Lucius wouldn't be present, of course, but there must be someone else who's loyal to your cause."_

"_It seems an appropriate action."_

Voldemort relayed what was said to Lucius, adding in a few backup ideas in case the plan didn't pan out as hoped. He looked back to Jasper to find the vampire staring at Draco with a fanged smile, and the blond was avoiding the other's gaze with a slight flush across his cheeks. Voldemort sighed. What had Jasper done this time?

"Jasper." Golden eyes darted back to red ones.

"What?" He asked innocently. Voldemort scowled. "I'm just playing."

"You know young Draco then?" His question had Lucius looking at his son, and the blush on Draco's cheeks darkening. Memories under thrall were never clear but, unless they were erased with purpose, some things wouldn't be forgotten. It was likely that Draco remembered him, if vaguely, and also that he had curled into Jasper's arms.

"Yes. I suppose you could say that." He leered at the blond. "Come here, little Malfoy." He purred.

The blond flinched and looked up briefly to his stone-faced father. Lucius said nothing to him, nor did he even glance in his son's direction. Draco approached with his head held high and his back straight, but there was an obvious wariness in his eyes. Jasper hissed to Nagini, and the snake clear off his lap to coil on the next cushion over. When Draco was close enough, Jasper pulled him down to sit in his lap cradling the other against him like one would a child.

"Jasper." His name was said with an even tone, but there was a warning hidden in it. Jasper flashed him a grin and used just enough thrall to make the blond relax and curl into the warmth of the body holding him.

"Like a child." The vampire murmured, stroking a hand over the vibrant blond hair. His answer wasn't entirely true though. He would never come to look at Draco like a lover, but there was something in the blond that drew him. A hidden taste on his magic. He tucked Draco's head beneath his chin and inhaled his scent deeply. He found what he was looking for and chuckled.

"They say you have veela in your line," He looked up to Lucius. "They were wrong." There was a slight stiffening of the elder Malfoy's body. Lucius didn't speak though. Voldemort looked interested. "I never would have even guessed, though I should have. Veela are far to Light in their magic for you to remain so Dark."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Voldemort didn't even reprimand him for speaking out of turn.

"Don't you?" He flashed sharp teeth. "Incubus blood is not so easily hidden from creatures of similar magic. I had wondered why I was so drawn to this one. It is weak in him."

Incubi and vampires were very alike in their basic natures. Blood and sex were the coin for their species, and if it weren't for the fact that incubi were demons and _had_ to feed off sexual energy, they could almost be counted the same creature, if not for a few minor differences. It was a fascinating study, though Jasper was only aware of it from his time spent in, what he deemed, the nexus world. Jasper released the thrall he held over Draco and let him get to his feet.

"Do bring little Malfoy by again, won't you?"

Voldemort dismissed them from the room. He said nothing about what he had learned about one of his favored minions.

"I want you to do something for me, a mission." Tom started, and Jasper looked at him in curiosity.

"What?"

"Go to Hogwarts and find out who the order members are. If you can, find out who all of them are."

"Sure. I was getting a little bored anyway. This supposed to be covert?"

"Try not to kill any of the students."

~..~

Voldemort twirled his wand artfully between his fingers in thought. Jasper was off at Hogwarts collecting information on the Order of the Phoenix, and if anyone could gather such intelligence from right beneath the old fool's nose, it would be the vampire. Now though, he was stuck in a debate on how to reward him if the mission was completed. Jasper would never request one, but both of them were Slytherin enough to know that further information, the extra bits if you will, would not be forth coming if there were no incentive. The problem was that, as a vampire of many years, there weren't many things that Jasper could desire, and the one thing Voldemort was sure the other wanted, he wasn't willing to give.

He couldn't go back to that companionship they held in school. He had told Jasper that the past was exactly that, but the vampire seemed determined to change his mind. Not to mention that Jasper would want equal footing in such a relationship. Lord Voldemort, however, didn't share power with anyone. It was one of the reasons that he was, and would remain, the Dark Lord. No one would take that from him. He would cut them down before the thought even slipped into their heads, no matter who it was. Fond memories be damned. He was turned from his thoughts when a body materialized from the floor.

"Your findings?"

Jasper cracked his neck and stretched. "A few names and a very unreliable description."

"Any one of importance?"

"Not really. Some of them will be dealt with easily enough, and others… I expect that you already knew or suspected their involvement."

"Was any information passed between them?"

"A bit, but it would be easier to go through names first."

"Agreed." Voldemort summoned a piece of parchment, quill, and ink bottle.

"Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid are the only three in the school as of yet. Snape is your man on the inside. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were mentioned, but I'm unsure as to their involvement in the group this time around. There were mentions of a Dedalus and a woman named Arabella. Then there is Mad-Eye, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Nymphadora Tonks. They talked about a 'thieving, no-good, lying, lazy, worthless man as well. There wasn't a name given for him though. Those were all the ones that were mentioned. I've no doubt there are more of them."

Voldemort made a noise that could be interpreted as agreement as he scratched down the names on the parchment. "The information?"

"Apparently the thieving lowlife is supposed to be trolling Knockturn alley for any information on you or your followers. Shacklebolt and the auror girl are keeping a close eye on known Death Eaters, especially the Malfoys, and Snape and the Dedalus fellow are part of the search team that is to be looking for Potter."

"I'm curious to know how it is that Severus has so much time on his hands."

"The way it sounded, it seemed like he was using some old contacts."

"He did travel a bit in my first rise, gathering ingredients. It is not entirely impossible that he met people who came into his debt along the way."

"I don't doubt it." Jasper agreed. "I'll return in a bit. I didn't have time to grab a bite to eat while at the school or returning from it."

Voldemort took opportunity where it was given. Reward could come in many forms, and while Jasper would never say it, he was aware that the vampire delighted in the taste of his blood. "Jasper."

The other turned to face the Dark Lord. He had fallen into contemplation on where he should gather his food.

"Perhaps it would be more beneficial if you just took from me. We have more plans to discuss, after all."

Jasper gave Tom a surprised look. After that single time back in school, Tom had never shown interest in a vampire's bite. Which, in the longer run, was lucky. Some became addicted to the sensations of a pleasurable feed. So, with that in mind, he was naturally wary of such an offer, though he doubted that Tom would do anything harmful at this point in time.

"It would be my pleasure." He answered as he sauntered over to find a seat straddling Voldemort's lap. Perhaps, the Dark Lord mused silently as a crooked smirk crossed his features, he hadn't thought this entirely through. Jasper's dark magic lit into him, and he hissed between clenched teeth as his hands wound into long hair. Jasper's face nuzzled along his as the vampire's hands dropped to play across his chest.

Bloodletting, especially with a willing victim, was always an ultimate high to a vampire. Even more so when that victim was magical. Jasper licked a wet line up the expanse of throat as Voldemort tilted his head back, and then he sunk long fangs in. Jasper wrapped his arms around him, one hand rising to cradle the back of his head. Jasper's dark dug deeper, finally drawing a response that had Tom's back arching up beneath him. The magic spilled out into the room, dimming the fire and lighting the protective magic that was spun into wards.

Jasper slowly pulled away with a dazed look on his face. Voldemort peered up at him with half lidded eyes. The magic in the room dissipated, and the fire quickly rose once again. The wards faded away back to being invisible. Shuddering breaths escaped from the both of them.

"Never had anything like that happen." Jasper said, breaking the silence of the room. Voldemort chuckled.

~..~

"The red one." Jasper dipped under a killing curse. "You really need to stop that."

"Quit coming into places without saying anything." Voldemort hissed as he put his wand away and shrugged on the dark green robes.

"I said the red one."

"I really don't care." He clasped the robe and straightened it across his shoulders. "How did you get in here? I have this warded against everyone but myself and Nagini."

"A talent I have." Jasper shrugged. "Where are you going?"

"To meet some potential allies."

"Who?"

"Several foreign were-packs."

Jasper made a face. Personally he had nothing against any were-animals, wolves or otherwise, but generally, he couldn't stand them. Their magic, especially the werewolves', was hostile. Not enough to attack on sight, but it left one with the discomforting feeling of being rubbed the wrong way, or like bugs creeping under the skin. He thought it might have something to do with the curse that first separated the Clan ability to transform into wolves and the vampires themselves, but that was only a theory.

"Have fun."

Voldemort gave a small, bemused smile. "You won't be joining me, I take it."

"No offense to those who go furry, but they make my skin creep." He gave a faux shudder that had Tom shaking his head. "Do you think they'll ally with you?"

"Yes, but only to hold back the other were-communities from joining the Light."

"Not sure that I follow."

"The Packs almost never divide. If some join a side then the rest will either follow or stay out of the way. There are, of course, individuals who choose the opposition, but they are usually few and far."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"A week."

"Ah."

Voldemort stared at the vampire for a moment and the smirk on his face. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

"You will refrain from tormenting my followers."

"But Tom," Jasper gave a playful whine and pouted. "They make it so easy."

"You will wait until I return."

Jasper smiled and drew Tom into a heated kiss. "I knew that you liked to harass them."

"I'm a Dark Lord; it's what I do."

~..~

Jasper was reading a book when Severus' mind crashed into his with great force. The book slipped from his hands to the floor, and he barely contained the groan of pain as images flew through his mind. Dumbledore. A curse. Gryffindor's sword. Less than a year to live. A familiar ring lying broken on the carpet. Jasper hissed as he stood abruptly from the chair, the pain pushed to the furthest reaches of his mind. The Old Man had found one. It seemed that Dumbledore truly was aware of the horcruxes. He muttered a curse as he paced back and forth across the room. He had the choice to tell Tom or not, but there was no way of knowing whether or not Dumbledore had others that were moving on more horcruxes. He hissed and pulled at the shadows. There was an item that needed to be retrieved and then he could go collect the pieces of soul.

It was late when Jasper stepped from the shadow of a building in Diagon Alley, but the bank was still open. He was quickly taken to the vault he had set up when living back in 1945. There, upon a stone table, was the item he was here for. Its physical form was a watch that had long since stopped ticking, and its purpose was divining the location of specific items. He'd never told Tom that he had made a second of his little item finder, and the other had never asked. At least he already knew the three items that would be in danger. Wasn't it fortunate that the diadem, cup, and locket were already programmed in to the finder? Nagini was safe at her master's side, and the last hung around his neck. He pulled the knob on the side and twisted it three times.

"Hufflepuff's Cup." The finder whirred.

There were four hands in the watch. It would have stood out in the muggle world, but as he was in the wizarding one, it fit right in. The traditional hour and minute hands both a shade of red were for distance to the item and were far more accurate when one was closer to the item in question. The third was for direction, and it also changed colors, ranging to white, black, and green, to identify what security measures were surrounding the item. White for benign alarm charms, black for curses, and green for wards. Jasper had been unable to narrow it down further than that, but he couldn't complain since he would have some warning. The last, the same length as the hour hand were also for directionality though on a more dimensional basis than the other two as it recognized 'above' and 'below'.

"Well… that is convenient." He said as the results came back.

Two hundred feet of total distance lie between him and the cup. That distance could be divided somehow between East and below him. The alert hand was also striped black and green, and with those two in combination, along with the fact it was pretty much a guaranteed horcrux, it was bound to be surrounded by a nasty set of curses and damaging wards. Jasper glanced at the door that was mostly shut, hiding him from view of the goblin. It wouldn't take long to get the cup, even with curses and wards. The shadows slipped him from his own vault and into that alternate world of black and white. He slipped through the stone floor to the tunnels beneath. The watched still worked even though he was technically in another dimension.

Jasper had to drop another level and pass through two vaults, but he quickly came to the vault the cup was contained in. Dragons prowled in front of most of the vaults on this level, but thankfully they couldn't sense him at all. He'd been worried since, while he had control of fire, dragon flames were a form of creature magic that he couldn't take control of, and with the dragons innate abilities, he wasn't sure if they would sense his presence or not. He passed through the wall instead of the vault door, simply avoiding the measures that were taken on the old vaults. What he came to when he stepped through surprised him, though it shouldn't have.

The money made no difference to him, though there was quite a bit of it, but it was the magic that saturated the air that drew notice. The sheer mass of dark artifacts within the vault was surprising, and the number of curses on each item was a surprise as well. Some were so powerful that you couldn't tell one objects cursed aura from those surrounding it. Whose ever vault this was, they were absolutely paranoid. Nothing in this room could be touched without setting off a series of traps and curses. He followed the directional hand of the watch, skirting around the objects just to be on the safe side, and finally came to the cup. Stepping from the shadow realm, Jasper made quick work of shredding all protections on, or even near, the cup before taking it in hand and disappearing back to his own vault. He exited his vault and was escorted to the surface where he disappeared in a swirl of shadows.

~..~

Jasper was on the hunt for the diadem now, and he was having a hell of a time narrowing down exactly where it was. He'd overshot the location several times by passing through the shadow and had to double back often. The last time, when he'd ended up right in the middle of Hogsmead, (thankfully it was the early morning and there was no one to see him) he suspected where it was that he was heading. He thought himself a bit foolish not to realize it earlier. Of course Tom would be arrogant enough to hide one right underneath Dumbledore's nose. Not to mention that Hogwarts was an obvious logical choice with its ambient magic and secrets. Then again, he doubted that the location had anything to do with logic all things considered.

He fell into the shadows again as he approached the school. He had no intention of even a glimpse of him being caught. He moved slowly through floors, walls, and rooms, following the way the hand pointed. Eventually he found himself in a familiar hall and next to a tapestry. Jasper frowned and looked at the empty expanse of wall. It seemed that Tom might have been a bit cleverer than he had initially assumed. The room of hidden things, or the room of requirement, was an excellent place within the school. The chamber of secrets would have been better, however, as only parselmouths could access it. With the room, anyone with a small amount of luck could stumble across it.

Jasper stepped through the wall to find the closet that was on the opposite side. He came back through and once more frowned. It seemed that the room didn't exist unless there was someone to activate the magic that made the door appear. He looked around warily. No one was around and all of the portraits were asleep. He moved from the shadows and paced back and forth, asking for the room Tom had hidden things in. The door appeared a moment later, and Jasper stepped through. It was like he remembered, with clutter climbing the walls and stacking in the middle of the floor.

He looked down to the watch and ignored everything else. A few more feet and… there it was, sitting on top of a bust looking like part of the statue were it not for the obvious difference in material. He reached up and gently pulled it down, stowing it away in the inner part of his robes. He headed back to the door. While the room was now considered 'active' he wanted to take no chance on getting stuck within the confines of Hogwarts magic. He walked out into the hall to find himself at wand point and an angry Headmaster holding the other end.

"Hello, Albus. I had thought you would be sleeping like everyone else at such an early hour." It couldn't have been more than four in the morning. Jasper looked pointedly at the gloved hand. "Shame about that, but you should know better than to touch that which doesn't belong to you."

"What are you doing here, and who are you?"

"I'm getting a few things let behind. As for who I am, do you honestly not recognize me?" He smiled and flicked his hair back over a shoulder. "It's only been fifty years or so."

Dumbledore frowned and his brow creased, and he shook his head.

"Shame. Such a pity considering you're the one who killed me." He watched as the Headmaster's eyes widened in sudden realization, and he slithered out of the way of a spell. "That wasn't nice." He clicked his tongue at the man.

"How is it that you are alive?" Albus flung another spell and then sent a transfigured stone at him.

"Not alive. Didn't you wonder how that media darling of yours came to be vampire?" He taunted as he slipped out of the way of more flashes of spells.

"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore arced his wand above his head and suddenly the hall was closed off to deny Jasper any obvious escape.

"Dead. He was of no more use." Jasper laughed at Dumbledore's enraged face.

"You lie!" But the curses he was throwing said that Dumbledore had doubts.

Another volley and Jasper dodged them still laughing. The old man must be absolutely furious at the loss to garner such a response. A dark curse skittered by his head, and he stopped laughing. Apparently the fool wanted to play serious. His lips curved into a dark smile, and he saw Dumbledore draw back just slightly. Jasper moved forward in a blur and Dumbledore, being human, had no chance. The vampire caught the other's wrist and, giving him only a moment to recognize the danger, snapped it. The wand clattered to the floor.

"Don't start a game you can't win." Jasper advised, releasing him and stepping back and fading away into the darkness.

~..~

Jasper paced casually up and down the road. He would have questioned why there was a horcrux in London, but decided that he was better off not knowing that particular answer. If the place was of any significance to Tom, then it was likely so because he had killed someone there. Funny how a man who runs from death is always so involved in it, but that was getting a bit off-track. The problem he was having was that he couldn't see the damn place the locket was in. He could sense the house. He could sense the magic. He just couldn't do anything else because the location of the pace eluded him though he was standing directly in front of the thing.

Then a dog appeared from basically nowhere in the middle of the street. The both stared at each other for a moment, and then the dog lunged at him. Jasper whacked him harshly across the nose, and the dog reeled back in disbelief with a gaping mouth.

"Do that again, and I'll have you neutered." Jasper threatened. The animals jaw worked open and closed a few times, and Jasper decided to state the obvious. "You're not acting very dog like."

That seemed to snap the canine out of its confusion, and it barked. If it weren't for the fact that Jasper didn't know exactly what was being told to the Order members, he would have just dropped the charade and confronted Sirius. As it was though, he couldn't. Remus came stumbling into the street and didn't see the vampire straight away with his attention fully focused on the dog.

"I don't care if you obliviate the location from your head; I'll stuff it down your throat and drag you back in if I have to." The werewolf waved a slip of paper in his hand. "It's for the best." Before the dog could snap of another bark to warn the man Jasper ripped it from the Remus' grasp.

"I get it now. The fidelus charm. That was very convenient. Thank you." He nodded to the two and used the shadows to vanish into the house, leaving the two in a frantic panic.

He heard them burst into the house. A woman started shrieking at the two of them, cursing them, their bloodlines, and the werewolf's whore of a mother. Jasper easily ignored her, instead choosing to listen as the pair of them floo called Hogwarts. He heard McGonagall's voice from the fireplace as he moved through the house, and he heard her voice disbelief as she rushed away to inform the Headmaster of the catastrophe that had happened. There weren't any other noises for a long time, and by the time someone arrived, Jasper already had the locket in his hands.

He turned around and saw Sirius standing there. Jasper had heard him come up, but he hadn't been worried. The man didn't have a wand on him. He did notice that Sirius looked worse since the last time he saw him. Healthy, but still worse. It seemed like the insanity that had been kept at bay within Azkaban was finding place. The animagus stared at him for a long while, and then he stepped into a room just off the hall they were in and gestured the vampire inside. Jasper, curious, followed him. The door was closed and locked behind them. There were footsteps rushing passed the door.

"You look a lot like Lily." Sirius said as his eyes traced over the cheekbones and the curve of his cheek. "Are you part of her family?"

"I am." He was surprised that Sirius was so calm. With the others' attempt to drag him off earlier, probably to wait for Remus to obliviate him, he would have thought that there would be more reaction.

"What are you here for?"

"This." He held up the locket. "It belongs to a dear friend of mine."

"Do you know where my godson, Harry Potter is? He's Lily's boy; one of you."

"He has passed. You have my condolences. I must leave now." There was a howl of anguish as he slipped away. Maybe after this was all over he would go back to Sirius and explain things, but for now this was the way it had to be. He felt strangely empty as he flickered through the shadows.

Jasper ended up in his room on the island of Azkaban. He set the three horcruxes he had gathered upon the desk and started to work. They were going to be protected. Spells, curses, and wards of all kinds were going to be set on them. In the end, the only one who would be able to get through them would be himself. They would remain protected on the island, hidden from everyone and everything. He had thought to tell Tom, if only to assure him, but as he was he wouldn't come to the same conclusions that Jasper had and try to kill him. Death wasn't an experience he was looking to repeat, so he would let Tom believe that they were in their original positions for now. For now it would remain secret.

When he was done, spheres of swirling colors surrounded each of the items. Jasper picked them up, careful not to disturb any of the triggers, and placed them in one of the cabinets that were in his room. Now he could focus on other matters. Matters like revenge. It was time that he started the hunt of Albus Dumbledore's followers.

~..~

_A/N: A big thanks to those who have reviewed and, of course, by beta. The next chapter is going to pick up a bit more and will, hopefully, have a few more Tom and Jasper moments._


	18. Chapter 18

_**Redrum**_

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_Death is a shadow that always follows the body._

_~ English Proverb (14th Century)_

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Jasper was stalking along the roofs of the buildings that lined Diagon Alley. Not an easy feat for a human, but as a vampire, it was hardly any trouble. He was keeping close to the edge, peering down the side to keep track of his quarry. Kingsley Shacklebolt followed a regular schedule, and Jasper had been tailing him for two weeks to make sure of that. For being an auror, and a member of the vigilante Order of the Phoenix, the man wasn't aware of how dangerous his habit could be. Jasper would never be able to target Moody like this, and he would never try. In that case, constant paranoia really did help him out, especially as people (or vampires) were honestly out to get him.

Jasper signaled to a vampire that was running parallel to him on the buildings across the Alley. The vampire nodded and went ahead to block off the route that the auror usually cut through on his way to apparate home. Jasper spared a quick glance for those looking and, upon seeing no one, stepped off the rooftop to land silently on the street. He followed the dark man at an acceptable distance and began to close in as they both approached the target point. They turned down one of the smaller paths from Diagon. The other vampire stepped from his hiding place and blocked the path.

Kingsley stopped where he was, and Jasper did as well. The auror glanced just briefly over his shoulder. His wand was instantly in hand and a spell was flying towards the vampire at the other end before he even started moving. The vampire, a young one, was caught by the spell and was launched backwards, but quickly regained his feet. Jasper moved forward with a casual gate. The worst case scenario was that others were alerted and reinforcements were called. That outcome, however, was unlikely, as Jasper had taken precautions against it with a few spells that were placed in advance.

The younger vampire continued to block the forward path, but made no aggressive action towards the auror, just as he'd been ordered to. Jasper didn't need help to catch the man, but escapes were tricky things and he would take no chances. He had escaped Voldemort enough times in his younger years to know that all gloating did, when the target was alive, was invite trouble, but really, who could resist a little taunting?

"Mr. Shacklebolt, please quit attacking my minion." Jasper saw the younger vampire's face pull into a scowl at the term, but said nothing, which was wise of him. Jasper sidestepped a curse that was launched at him. He frowned as the auror slung another curse at the other, and then a white cat burst from the wand to disappear through the wards along the path. It shouldn't have been possible, but a patronus was useless in this situation so Jasper paid it no heed. "I do not repeat myself, so if you do not want to find yourself missing both arms, I suggest you refrain from ignoring me."

This seemed to get through as the auror finally gave pause. It could have been a foolish move had Jasper not meant every word of it, but as it was, he would like to keep form any action that might send the auror into any kind of shock. Shock made searching through a mind for information hard, and he wanted to make it as easy as possible. Afterwards… well, he did plan on playing with his torturer a little. Return the favor for the care he received at his hand, and then, perhaps, he would send the body back to Dumbledore with a note.

"Now, shall we talk like civilized beings, or should I restrain you so that you do not give into temptation?"

"Who are you and what do you want?" His voice was calm and low, just like it had been in the dungeons.

"I'm sure Albus gave you a hint. In fact, I'm sure he told you the day he came across me." Jasper smiled.

"He said you were remarkably similar to a student who died." Jasper laughed at Kinsley's response.

"Still playing it so close to his chest." His lips spread into a wide grin. "I'll let you in on a secret. I _am_ the student who died that day."

Kingley's face flashed disbelief until he caught sight of the glinting fangs, and then he understood. His grip tightened on his wand as he raised it again, ready to fire more, far more lethal, spells. He was on Dumbledore's side, using the usual methods that the Order employed, but he also knew when to lay aside the stunners and attempt to sever the head of his target. Jasper wasn't going to give him a chance to cause greater damage.

He fell into the shadows, and then he reached from the wall the auror had pressed against in an endeavor to protect his back. He forced the auror forward and off his feet, taking his wand as he went down. He made quick work of pinning the man with his superior strength. Jasper turned to the other vampire.

"Good work. You can leave now, but leave the wards up." The younger nodded and was gone into the darkness. "Now, let's see what we can learn from you."

He pressed his consciousness against Shacklebolt's mind only to find walls. He would have pressed harder, but he was aware that the effort would be futile. Mind magics, aggressive ones, would never be his strong suit. His defenses couldn't be broken through, but he would never be able to rip through some one's shields like some others were. He was going to need a different approach.

"I don't suppose that you will just cooperate and tell me what I want to know?" Unlikely, but might as well ask. He didn't get a response to his query. Figures. The opposition would never just know when they're beat and hand over the information, but then, one had to admire loyalty as well. "Alright then."

He pulled forth his vampire magic until the air was so heavy with it that it was hard to breathe. He held it that way only for a moment before forming into thrall. This would be the most force he'd ever put someone under, but if he didn't do it quickly, it probably wouldn't work. He felt the muscles in the body beneath him tense, trying to fight off the power physically. It was useless. Harsh breaths fell from Shacklebolt as he struggled and tried to keep his will. Jasper forced more power in, and soon, almost too quickly for such a well-known duelist and auror, Kingsley buckled.

Jasper attacked his mind again. The walls were weak and pliable. He was able to slip through and search the numerous memories. They flipped before him like pictures in a book. He just needed to find the correct ones. The Order ones. He followed threads that were likely to lead him there, only to come up to dead ends. He searched faster, cutting through Kingsley's mind with no worry as to the damage. All over it was the same. He was unable to find any direct information. It was too well hidden, and Jasper was too weak at the mind arts. Then, there were some names, ones that were closely associated with the Order names he already knew. Mundugus, Figg, Diggle, Jones –

He was ripped from the auror's mind by a spell that hit his physical body.

Jasper looked over at his uninvited guests and hissed. He recognized some of them easily enough, but how had they found him? Several Order members, Nymphadora, Moody, and a woman he didn't recognize. He got to his feet, dragging up the limp body as a shield. Order members would never risk hitting their own. He held one hand across the man's throat, the claws that tipped his fingers digging hard enough to draw blood. The other hand was poised over the man's abdomen, prepared to gut him.

"I'm surprised to see you all. However did you find me?"

"No need for you to know, scum." Tonks spat, her wand pointed towards him and his hostage.

"No name calling, Nymphadora. I just might be angry enough to harm your dear friend here." He tightened the hand wrapped around Kingsley's throat to make a point. He saw their hesitation. "Now, what is it you wanted on this fine evening?"

"Hand over Kingsley." The unknown woman said.

"Who might you be, madam?" She looked as if she were about to speak when Mad-Eye gruffly told her to 'shut the bloody hell up.' "Auror Moody, pleasure."

"Only for you."

Jasper's eyes narrowed in thought. That wasn't the type of response he had expected. Alastor was always a bit more confrontational than that, even in hostage situations. It was just the way he was. They were stalling for something. Or someone, he realized. There must have been more members on the way, and while Jasper was eager to know their faces, he wouldn't put himself at risk for the information.

"The patronus." He murmured to himself. It was the only thing that could have alerted them. The ward muted everything else. "How clever." He looked up at Tonks to see her shift in a bit of nervousness. Yes, they were definitely waiting for others. He grasped Kingley's jaw with the hand that had been at his throat, tilting it up enough so that his friends could get a good look at his face. "Time for me to go. Tirra, ducklings." He smiled, and his hand ripped open Shacklebolt's stomach, spilling the innards to the ground. The shadows took him as the two women screamed Kingsley's name and Moody shot a curse at him.

~..~

He appeared in Voldemort's study with bloodstained hands and a tittering laugh. That was quite enjoyable even though there wasn't time to draw it out more. The next one he would take so that there would be no interruptions.

"What has you in such a good mood?"

Jasper turned towards Voldemort who had just walked into the room. His crimson eyes dropped to the vampire's hands.

"You're dripping on my carpet."

"My apologies." Jasper smiled as he licked the blood from his hand.

"Who did you have a run in with?"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"No injuries to show for it? I had heard that he was a fair dueler."

"I might have drawn him into a situation where it became easy to disarm him."

"In other words, an ambush." Voldemort mocked.

"No, if it was an ambush, I would have said _ambush_."

"Semantics, I'm sure." He waved his hand and took a seat behind his desk. "What state did you leave him in?"

"If he wasn't dead when I left, he is now. I made sure that his liver was devastated to an extent beyond repair."

"How vicious of you."

"Yes, well, I wasn't exactly trying to be especially nice." They both shared a vicious smile. "What have you been doing all day? I half expected to find you still at your desk."

"Some of my followers were beginning to cause problems. I gave them several reasons to show a little self-restraint."

"I'll be heading out to Azkaban soon to check the progress on several projects. If you've need of me, send a missive." Voldemort didn't give a response, and Jasper didn't spare a second glance as he was gone from the room.

~..~

"I've never seen anything like that." Emmeline Vance stated with horror filled eyes. Tonks shook her head. She hadn't either. "He- he just… just like that!"

The pair of them were in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, waiting for the man to return from wherever he had been previously. Moody was at the murder scene, fielding the questions from the aurors that he had summoned. Tonks hadn't said a word after screaming Kingsley's name, and if she'd been in any state to, Emmeline would have offered the little comfort she could. Dumbledore stepped into the office and didn't seem surprised to see the two of them. He sat down behind his desk and asked, gently, what had happened.

"Kingsley's patronus alerted us to trouble. I sent one of my own on to alert more Order members. We arrived on the scene to find a man holding down Kingsley. Moody fired off a curse, a stunner, but it didn't seem to affect the man at all except to draw his attention. He confronted us using Kingsley as a shield. I think he figured out that we were waiting for the others to arrive and he – he just – just gutted him!" The last was said in a near wail loud enough that Tonks jumped in her seat.

"Why don't you and Nymphadora take a night in the infirmary? Madam Pomfrey will have some calming droughts stored that you can have."

Emmeline nodded and lead Tonks out by a gentle grip on her arm. The door closed softly behind them, and Albus rested his hands in his hands. Kingsley's death was more than unfortunate, it was a catastrophe. Someone else would be assigned to Sirius' case and most of the information he'd gotten from the aurors would no longer be available. The fireplace burst with green flames and Moody stepped out. Dumbledore sealed up the office with a flick of his wand.

"Well?"

"It's a right mess. I believe you forgot to mention that this new threat was a vampire as well."

"I did not think it important."

Moody growled. "Quit being a fool, Albus! You damn well knew that it mattered, or do you think of all of us as cannon fodder now?"

"That wasn't it at all, and I don't appreciate the accusations. I wasn't one hundred percent sure of his species and so I felt it best not to mention it."

Mad-Eye's face twisted into a snarl. "You're hiding something. I know it, and the rest will figure it out quickly enough. Now, what the bloody hell is going on?"

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and sucked on it. He could tell Moody at least. His old friend knew when to be discrete with information, and if Moody knew, then the others wouldn't question his intentions on withholding the information, thinking that he and Alastor would have agreed that it was the best course of action.

"His name, then, was Jasper Cole, a student sent to Hogwarts after an attack on his home during raids by Gridelwald's forces. He was sorted into the fifth year Sytherin group, and made it quickly to the top of his classes. I had always had suspicions about him, but he was adept at diverting them for the most part. It was in his seventh year that he let the school, the DMLE, and the public know more of his true nature. He tortured and murdered two students, and tortured a third to insanity. The third student was the first recorded case of insanity by Cruciatus curse. The teachers, several aurors, the Minister, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and myself confronted him. Jasper Cole died in the confrontation after it turned violent, or supposedly did. Apparently, he is not as dead as I had thought, or hoped."

"How did he die?"

"Killing curse."

"Must have been a vampire before then." Moody said thoughtfully. "I don't understand why you didn't just say that this new threat was a vampire. We didn't need his history."

"Ah, but there are some among our number who would have a need to know more, and that is something that cannot be looked into."

"Have it your way then, but you will let them know to be on the look-out for a vampire."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded as he twisted the end of his beard around his finger. "I have a feeling he is not quite through yet. Keep everyone on high alert."

Moody nodded and stomped from the room. He wasn't pleased with today's events, and he wouldn't allow them to play out a second time. Dumbledore waited some time before calling through the floo for Severus. The potion's master stepped into the room with a scowl firmly in place.

"Have you heard anything more on the vampire that is close to Voldemort?"

Snape opened his mouth, willing himself to speak of everything he knew, but the magic of the bond held him from it.

"Nothing." It passed his lips in a harsh gasp, and he was left pale and shaking slightly from the power of the slave bond.

"About the vampires in general?"

The magic let him speak this time. "I know for sure that they reside on Azkaban though one is often seen in the Dark Lord's manor as of late. There have been rumors of an alliance forming between the Dark Lord and the vampires through this… liaison. Nothing official however."

"I see. Is there any word on when Voldemort plans to come out of hiding?"

"Not until it's too late for the Light side to retaliate."

"We need to force him into the open." He slipped another lemon drop into his mouth. "Thank you Severus, you can go back to what you were doing."

~..~

Jasper sprawled lazily across the lounge leaning against Neville while Luna curled comfortably on his legs and lap. The bond created between Sire and Childe vampires was usually a close one, often drawing them together into physical contact until the Childe reached a certain age or level of power. Even if he hadn't known this bit of information, Jasper couldn't think that he would ever be uncomfortable with close contact with the two. If he was able to look at others in such a way any longer, he would have seen them as friends.

Jean-Claude had appeared with the two new vampires, but had yet to speak, unwilling to break a moment that was usually imperative to vampire growth. New vampires drew comfort and balance from having their Sire close, and though it wasn't a necessity, most chose to stay near their makers (and vice versa) any way.

"What is the situation in the Ministry, Jean-Claude?"

"The Dark supporters are anxious, and those with prominent creature heritage within them can feel a shift in the magic. They can sense that something will happen soon."

"How many have such a prominent heritage?"

"Half a dozen."

"Hmm…" Jasper strokes his hand through Luna's hair in thought. Half a dozen. It was a small number, and they would be ignored if they came forth calling out that something 'feels' off. They would likely be the better-prepared families, however, if they heeded their instincts. There wasn't a guarantee that they would though.

"Keep an eye on them and their homes. Alert me if any new creature magic wards go up. I want no surprises if we are forced to eliminate them. Are any of the families well known Light supporters?"

"No. Most fall neutral."

"Good. Has the auror corp. been infiltrated yet?"

"No, My Lord, but we have a man, Scrimgeour, under our power."

"How goes the ministry's vampire hunt?"

"They have nearly exterminated all of the Flock enclaves within Great Britain. The Clans remain untouched solely because we reside here for the most part. Since they haven't been getting information on the situation here, they may resort to bringing in professional hunters. There have been rumors about anti-vampire legislation that is being prepared to go before the Wizengamot."

"Who is heading the bill?"

"Most notably is Dolores Umbridge, but she has the full backing of Fudge."

"Get rid of her, and make sure to remove all the files and papers about the bill you can."

"And Fudge?"

"There aren't any worries about him yet. He's useful to us for now, but it's likely that there are more backers to this idea and the proposal will get pushed through anyway."

"If it does?"

Jasper's face pulled into a feral smile. "I'll just have to help my dear Tom speed up his plans."

"What if he decides to keep the law in place?"

Jasper's smile was wiped clean off his face and a dark fire lit up in his eyes. Tom would never dare, but Voldemort might. He didn't want to contemplate what he would do if Voldemort got it into his head to hunt down the vampires. The Dark Lord wouldn't be able to get through the wards around the prison any longer, but that didn't remove the danger of such a situation.

"I've already given my oath on what comes first." He turned his attention back to stroking the blond hair before him. Jean-Claude sensed the dismissal and left immediately, wary of upsetting his Lord further.

"Father." Jasper nearly flinched. He would definitely prefer being called sire rather than father.

"Yes, Luna."

"Will we be joining _him_?" At her question, Jasper could feel Neville's sudden interest.

"That is for you to decide. It is your choice, but if you attack him while I am with him, you can expect to suffer." Luna nodded at his answer. His 'children' or not, he would not allow them to join in the war against Voldemort unless he wronged the vampires. Individual disputes were, naturally, a separate matter.

Jasper spent a week with the vampires on Azkaban.

~..~

The aurors moved around the room methodically, collecting what little evidence there was of another presence in the room. There was no magical signature in the room, but then, they didn't expect one either. Madam Dolores Umbridge's throat had been slashed open. Thick, partially congealed blood covered nearly the entire surface of her ministry desk, and more had spilled off to form a puddle on the floor.

"Ma'am," One of the aurors saluted Amelia Bones as she stepped into the room. The others continued with their work.

"Any clues as to the perpetrator?"

"No, ma'am, but we suspect that this person has had training in blades, stealth, and general ward breaking. We think that it is likely some one of muggle background or who is in the muggle world enough to pick up some of the less reputable arts."

"You don't think it would be assassins?"

"No, ma'am. There weren't any of their typical calling cards left behind. We did, however, find this." He led her over to the desk and directed her attention to the hard wood surface. There was something carved into it.

"What is it?"

"An Ankh, but we don't know of any groups that hold connection with the symbol in this country."

"Have you found anything that would implicate any of her foreign contacts?"

"No, ma'am. We sent a missive down to the Egyptian ministry, but we've yet to hear back from them."

"Describe how the perpetrator was able to enter."

"There was forced entry at the side door that opens to a neighboring office. The lock was melted clean off and the wards across it were completely stripped without triggering any alarms. We believe that Umbridge had been at her desk at the time the other entered and was caught unaware. The cause of death is the wound to her throat, but there are some signs of torture."

"You mean non-magical torture."

"Yes, ma'am. All the bones in her dominant hand were broken, and there was some spinal injury. Chances are that her death was quite a bit painful."

"Who found her?"

"Percy Weasley. He's already been interrogated for any possible involvement."

"Make sure to up security. I'll deal with the press." The auror gave her another salute as she walked away.

A hard frown drew her face down. What a mess. This was not the time for murders in the ministry, especially as there was one only a handful of days ago. There was a possibility that they were linked, being so close together, but she didn't want to assume anything. There were so few straightforward murders in the wizarding world, that to have two in a week was unusual. That ankh was also bothersome. She couldn't help but feel as if she knew who was using the symbol, but it just escaped her grasp at the moment. Hopefully, not knowing wouldn't sentence more people to death.

~..~

Voldemort roared in fury as he pitched a chair across the room. Lucius kept his place, kneeled on the floor and afraid to move for fear of drawing his master's wrath. When he had come forth with information, he had never expected such a reaction. Dumbledore had used every back channel he could to arrange a meeting with several Unspeakable agents, and it was only because Lucius was looking for such things that he was able to find it. The old man had asked for them to examine a ring, one that was a supposed heirloom of the Slytherin line and bathed in dark magic. He had thought that his Lord would want to know of an artifact from the Slytherin line, but this violent outburst seemed extreme for such a thing. He must have made a move because the Dark Lord's attention was suddenly on him.

"Crucio!" He hissed.

Lucius couldn't stop from shaking as the curse tore through him, but he did manage to withhold his screams. The curse was released only after a short time, and Voldemort went back to devastating the room. Lucius made sure not to make another move. He wasn't going to incur the Dark Lord's wrath again so soon.

"Lucius, you will find out everything you can about this meeting. When, where, and who. You will not fail in this, do you understand? The results of failure will not be pleasant."

"Yes, My Lord." The blond gave a final bow and quickly disappeared from the room.

After his minion had gone, he cursed another piece of furniture, exploding it into hundreds of wooden splinters. He had no doubt that Dumbledore really did have the ring, and that the old fool knew what it was. He also knew that Dumbledore was expecting a reaction from him. He knew that this was a trap, but what choice did he have? He had other horcruxes, but with two having come before the Headmaster, Voldemort knew that the light wizard would suspect there were more.

His only hope was that Dumbledore had fallen to the curse on the ring. Nothing would save the old man from that, even if he had gotten help. Even the Unspeakables would be unable to make a cure in time to save the muggle-loving fool's life. He needed a plan and a disguise so that he could enter the ministry without drawing attention, but it needed to be more than a glamour and more than just a cloaking charm. Something more permanent. His hand rose to caress his face. He'd been contemplating it for some time, but had always brushed aside the restorative potions and rituals as superfluous and unnecessary. Now, it seemed as if there was a use after all. He needed Severus.

~..~

"Sirius! Sirius please, you can't do this to yourself!" Remus beat against the door, trying in vain to force it physically. Sirius had locked himself in his room, isolated from everyone and everything in the house since he'd found out about his godson's death. He hadn't even eaten as far as the former professor knew, and if Remus didn't get to him soon, the werewolf feared the worst.

"Please, Sirius. Not – not like this. Please." Remus collapsed to his knees, his arms and forehead resting against the door as soft sobs racked his body. This was worse than thinking Sirius a traitor, worse than him being innocent in Azkaban for twelve years, and worse than being on the run, leaving behind everything they knew just to be together as they once were. Sirius was going to starve himself to death, right on the other side of the door, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The door unlocked and creaked open. Sirius strode out with biking leathers fitting tightly to his legs. A heavy jacket was slung over his shoulders, and a helmet was tucked beneath his arm. He looked down at Remus in clear confusion.

"Moony? What are you doing on the floor?"

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius' legs. "Oh thank Merlin you're not dead!"

"Why would I be dead?"

"I was so worried!" Remus continued on, appearing to not have heard the question. "You'd locked yourself in your room, and no one had seen you. Then I had thought you were starving yourself and – "

"Acting a little irrational there, Moony." Sirius said drolly. "Can you stop humping my leg now?"

Remus got to his feet abruptly and cuffed Sirius on the head. "Glad you're alright and – where are you going?"

Sirius looked down at his helmet for a moment and then looked back up to Remus. "Er… I was heading off to Azkaban…"

There was a long silence and then, "_Are you insane!_"

"Well after the last time I was there…"

"This is nothing to joke about! Vampires, Sirius! The vampires have taken over the island."

"And I bloody well know that, but I don't believe Harry's dead! They're the only ones with answers! So I'm going and you can't stop me."

"Sirius…"

"Don't ask me to stay, Moony, because I can't."

Remus was silent as Sirius walked passed him, and he didn't move from that spot until the roar of Sirius' motorcycle faded away.

~..~

Jasper's body formed up from the shadows the spread across the carpet of Tom's office. He looked up at the rustling papers, expecting a perfect opportunity to surprise Voldemort once again. He didn't expect a man who he didn't know rifling through the papers and drawers of the desk, obviously searching for something. He was across the distance that separated them in three loping steps. One hand wrapped tightly around the other's dominant hand, and the second was at the throat, closing tightly enough to make them give a choking gasp.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

The body in his arms tensed. Jasper could scent the smell of surprise and confusion and, finally, understanding.

"Release me you fool."

Jasper snorted. "I don't know who you think you are, to order me about, or even to be within the Dark Lord's study, but once I find out, it will not be a pleasant experience. If you tell me willingly, however, I'll make your death quick and painless, if not a bit messy." Then he looked about the room, with its high-end furniture and antique fittings. "Though I think Voldemort would be a little pissed if I got blood all over everything."

"You're damn right I would." The man in his arms snarled. "Now let me go before I summon dementors to devour your soul."

"Sorry, lovely, but you look nothing like Voldemort does. A poor excuse for a disguise… who let you in, in the first place?"

"Cole, I will find a way to murder you with my bare hands."

Jasper froze suddenly; his body held perfectly still like a statue. Oh hell, he mused with a bit of a grin on his face that was entirely inappropriate considering that he'd just been threatened. Voldemort was the only one who would be here that knew his name from fifty years ago, and that, unfortunately, meant that he'd just basically assaulted the darkest wizard in the last century. This was probably going to get him cursed a few times… or the Death Eaters were not going to enjoy the next meeting.

"Er… if I let you go are you going to attempt to harm me?" He asked while admiring the soft, dark hair that hung around Tom's face. It needed cut, just a little, but that didn't take away from the fact that Voldemort had hair now. It seemed as if the old Tom would start surfacing once more. This was only the first step.

"I'm going to gut you and feed your entrails to Dumbledore and his little pack of idiots." Okay, the first _almost_ step then.

Jasper nodded sharply, once, with a serious expression on his face. "I'm going to come back later." He was going to hide with the Death Eaters for a while, and if Voldemort found him… well, they were better (_and_ _easier_) targets, weren't they?

~..~

"Do you really believe this is a wise course of action?" Moody asked as he polished his glass eye.

"No. In fact, I'm fairly certain that this is ill-considered and incautious." Albus admitted.

"Then why do it?"

Albus folded his hands, unfolded them, and then put a lemon drop in his mouth. There really wasn't another way.

"I've no doubt you remember how horrendous it had gotten towards the end of his first rise to power. That was with aurors patrolling and fighting, if not unprepared for the offensive they were facing. With things as they are, only us, the Order, fighting, we and by default the rest of the wizards will fall. We stand no chance with our small number. We need the ministry to acknowledge his return and use their own forces to stall the Death Eaters."

"There's no guarantee that he will show up." Alastor pointed out.

"He will come." He stated. He ignored Alastor's imploring look for more information. Horcruxes weren't a discussion he wanted to have with anyone. Unfortunately, the time of his death wasn't far off, and he would have to choose someone to pass the information to. He wouldn't allow Tom to win the world just because he had made a foolish decision in putting on that ring. If only Harry could be found alive to complete his prophesized purpose, but alas… he wasn't so optimistic. "Have you learned anything about Madam Umbridge's murder?"

"Nothing concrete, but I think it's likely that the vampires did it." Moody answered as he put his eye back in place.

"How did you come to that?"

"That ankh they found carved into the desk has some ties with the vampire race, and with Umbridge's position on the new legislation that was being pushed through, they're the most likely suspects."

"Do you think, if it is vampires, that they would have connections to the ones holding Azkaban, or just the ones within Great Britain?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it? Either way we have some severely pissed off bloodsuckers running amok and killing."

"True enough, I suppose."

"There anything more to know about that vampire you know… Cale, was it?"

"Cole," Albus corrected. "I've looked over some of the old school records, but there is nothing that will help us now. There wasn't even a picture to hand over to the aurors, not that I believe it would make much difference."

"I wonder why he's suddenly shown up?" Alastor asked.

"A number of guesses, but no way to tell which one is correct. What's even more frustrating is that he seems to be able to by-pass wards."

"All of them?"

"I know that he can pass through all the ones surrounding this school."

"Damn." The old auror hissed. "We need to find something that will cut off his access. We could end up like sitting ducks within our own protections."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. That was a very real possibility, especially within the confines of Hogwarts. The wards were so inclusive that, were they under siege, escape would be almost impossible. It was one of the downsides that hadn't been thought about when the school was built. "If you find anything, I'll be sure to take it into account."

"When are you having the fidelius recast on Black's home?"

"Two weeks is the soonest it can be done, unfortunately"

"Everyone has moved out in the meantime, so you won't need to worry about interference."

"Thank you, Alastor."

Moody nodded his head and was quickly gone from the office, leaving Albus alone with his thoughts.

~..~

Jasper slid into Voldemort's study on silent feet, this time using the door to give the Dark Lord enough warning on his presence so another curse didn't find its way in his direction. Voldemort was, once again, at his desk, scribbling on parchment with quick, sure strokes. Jasper pursed his lips. They quickly stretched out into a sly smile, showing just a hint of fang at the corner of his mouth. He really did work to hard some days.

He flicked his hand, almost a warding off gesture. Magic slipped the quill from Tom's hand, the paper from in front of him, and stacked everything neatly off to one side. Voldemort looked confused for just a moment, but his gaze quickly turned on Jasper in silent accusation. Jasper's smile just grew wider, and the vampire moved until he was sitting on top of the desk. He hooked his ankles over the arms of Tom's chair so he couldn't escape so easily, and pulled the Dark Lord closer so that he was nearly nestled between his knees.

"I told you, you work entirely too hard."

Voldemort snorted and reached for his quill and parchment. He had more important things to do than to cater to the vampire's whims. Jasper caught his wrist gently and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the palm softly. He drew a short gasp from Tom when he drug sharp fangs over the thin layer of skin that held blood vessels just beneath the surface. It would have been so easy to feed, if he had wanted. Tom probably would have let him in that moment, as entranced as he seemed to be. Instead Jasper drew him closer by the collar of his robe and dove into the warmth of the other's mouth.

He'd first intended it to be nothing more than a quick kiss, just enough to draw Tom from his perpetual bad mood that he'd fallen in as of late. Realistically, he should have known better than to tempt himself. He'd always been more attracted to Tom than he should have been. His tongue darted past those slightly parted lips, exploring that mouth with a slowness he hadn't known he was capable of. Voldemort fell out of his daze, standing abruptly from his chair and forcing Jasper on to his back on the desk, never once drawing away. Pale hands, far thinner than Jasper remembered, grasped at him, pulling him flush to the other body. He wound his legs around Voldemort's thin waist, trying to draw him even closer.

The door opened. Jasper snarled, and both he and Voldemort turned to the intruder who had stopped in the doorway to gape at the pair.

"Crucio!" The curse from both Voldemort's wand and Jasper's wandless magic.

Lucius writhed across the floor, a victim of bad timing and sadism that could only belong to an interrupted pair. Malfoy hadn't been able to appear at the next two meetings.

~..~

Jasper was skulking around in the darkness that lay behind Voldemort's throne. Death Eater meetings, while semi-entertaining with the crutiatus being thrown around, were more often boring than not. Reports on Dumbledore weren't forth coming, the Ministry was still pathetic, progress on a secret hostile takeover had stalled, and the new recruits were damn annoying. This had to be the worst meeting that Jasper had been to. There hadn't even been mention of muggle torture or arson yet. No death. No destruction. Hell, it almost seemed as if what they were doing was _legal_. His face scrunched up in distaste.

Jasper's face quickly fell into a pout as he folded his arms and wished that Voldemort would just introduce him. He'd been around Tom enough for the minions to know he was off limits, and he'd occasionally stalked some of the higher ranked Death Eaters. He had yet to be properly, and officially, introduced to the group though, like the newly initiated members had been after their induction and marking.

"Soon there will be vampires moving among you. I expect them to come and go unchallenged. If I discover otherwise, you will not only suffer my displeasure, but I shall lone the offender out as a blood slave. Their Lord, Anguis, is to be arriving soon, within the next few days. You are not to speak to him unless spoken to first. Avery, I put you in charge of finding some suitable chattel for our guests."

"Yes, My Lord."

"The official liaison to the vampiric race is also present," Jasper stepped up next to the throne, letting the light of the room flow over him. "You are to confront him at your own risk, and know that you may be taken as a slave if you lose against him. Jasper Cole, these are the Death Eaters."

Jasper gave a curt nod of his head, as was appropriate, and slipped away, finally done with his part in this meeting.

"Lucius, what have you discovered of Dumbledore's plans?"

"He is going to appear in the ministry after hours. An unspeakable is supposed to meet him in the atrium and lead him down into the Department of Mysteries. The meeting is to take place in two days, My Lord."

"Good. You, Bellatrix, and McNair will each pick two others to accompany me. Prepare them for a battle in the lower halls of the Department of Mysteries. I will deal with the old fool personally. The rest of you will be occupied with the aurors and any of Dumbledore's little pets."

Voldemort dismissed them with a hiss and watched them scurry out. He had two days until he was to appear in the ministry and retrieve the horcrux from the doddering old fool. He had hoped that he wouldn't be too late to save the piece of his soul. He wasn't so optimistic, but he couldn't take the chance that there was a possibility. Still, his ever present cynicism was reminding him that this was an obvious trap and that he should just cut his losses this time, but then, his cynicism had said the same about Potter.

… and on second thought, that was a horrible comparison.

~..~

_A/N: Thanks again to those who reviewed. Special appreciation to my beta._

_Niwa-k: __When I wrote the first chapter of this story and posted it under the name "langsyne" I had a totally different direction planned for the story. Then it just kind of stayed because I couldn't think of anything better, and now it just seems to fit. (Though that maybe just because I'm writing it.) So really there isn't any special reason for it._

_Leski__: I have to agree that I play some things out entirely too much and others not enough. Some times my hands just highjack my body and run away… And I picked up that book "The Harlequin" and well… what do you know… I did. Lol. It wasn't intentional though, I just happen to really like certain names._

_ClaMiAl__: First just let me say 'wow – damn'. That had to be one of the most extensive reviews I've gotten. I can't really make any excuses for all of the confusion, especially on the vampire side plot. The only thing I can say is that I never intended to actually use it. I had wanted to wipe out that whole section, but then I was left with how I was going to progress in the way I wanted. I just couldn't work anything else and that was what I was left with. That's the main reason everything is so… fractured. Most of the time the reviews will help point out missing facts that need put in to clarify or proving the need for what I was planning anyway. I keep having to remind myself to include it. After I'm finished I think I might go back and fix it and try to make more sense… _


	19. Chapter 19

_Note: Slash scene present and isolated by a series of ' * '._

_**Reveal**_

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_How like a winter hath my absence been_

_From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!_

_What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,_

_What old December's bareness everywhere!_

_~ Shakespeare _

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Jasper appeared on Azkaban once again after his introduction to the Death Eaters as a whole. He had no real need to stay, and there was business that needed taking care of. Not to mention that he needed to get ready for his role of Lord Anguis. He didn't know why, exactly, he kept his identities separate, but there was just a nagging feeling in the back of his head that told him that it was the way it needed to be. Not an overly happy feeling, the near paranoia, but he knew himself too well to ignore the creeping in the back of his head.

He fell onto one of the lounges with a sigh. It was good to be home. He liked being with Tom, but there wasn't anything like coming home and just relaxing. Neville and Luna appeared not long after he had lain down, and he moved enough to make room for them. Luna tucked up in front of him so that they were spooning, and both of them laid their heads on Neville's thigh. Jasper looked up at Neville as he flung an arm over Luna's waist.

"Your hair is green." He looked pointedly at the streaks of vibrant green running though Neville's hair.

Neville ran a hand through it. It had grown some since Jasper had last been here, a little more than two weeks, and it was shaggy and wild.

"Yeah. Jean-Claude said something about the magic making physical changes to show who's a vampire or something."

Jasper nodded and reached up. "Usually it's the eyes." He played gently with a strand of the green hair. It would probably be more noticeable the longer it got, and maybe after a few hundred years, his hair would be entirely green.

"Luna's got the eyes." Neville said.

At her name, she turned over and looked up at Jasper. Her eyes were still blue, but the shade was impossible in a normal human. Too bright, luminescent, and something about the shape was wrong, just a little off. He'd never look into her eyes and think _human_. They brightened, flashed, and suddenly serpent eyes were looking back at him, hypnotizing in their quality. Jasper had never seen anything like it before. Vampire eyes were more often found to be like the colors of precious stones. Luna's though… the ability to change the whole eye…

"Absolutely brilliant." He traced over her brow and circled her eye. She gave him one of her serene smiles. He looked back up to Neville. "How are you adjusting?"

Neville squirmed just a little. "It's been different."

Jasper looked thoughtful for a moment. "You don't like feeding."

"It's not that, exactly… It's just a little… uncomfortable."

"I don't understand." Jasper said. Neville wasn't being forthcoming, and trying to find the 'whys' and 'hows' in the evasive answers wasn't something Jasper wanted to indulge in.

"He thinks the neck is too intimate." Luna answered for Neville, and a slow blush spread over the young vampire's cheeks. Jasper gave a low chuckle. He wasn't that surprised. Neville was a pureblood wizard and grew up like one. Everything was a formality among the pureblooded wizards, and most intimate contact was reserved to spouses behind closed doors.

"The wrist is an option, or even the crook of the elbow." Jasper offered. "I'll show you how later. You have to be more careful since our bites heal slower on the wrists for some reason."

"Alright." Neville gave a hesitant smile.

"And you, Luna?" Jasper ran a hand through her soft blond hair.

"It's nice." She snuggled against him, and Jasper continued his petting. He never would have guessed Luna to be an affectionate person. She had always seemed a little too distant to enjoy such contact. Jasper flicked a murmured spell, and the lounger they were on enlarged. He glanced up at Neville, who quickly got the idea and lay down on the opposite side of Luna, folding himself against her back. Jasper moved his arm so that it was lying across the two of them. Luna sighed in contentment and tucked her head beneath Jasper's chin.

Jasper wondered if this was what it was like to have family. The sense of closeness wasn't something he ever remembered experiencing in his long life. He closed his eyes and relished in the sensation, and he resolved to do this far more often. Light steps alerted him to another presence, and he looked up to see Jean-Claude.

"What is it?" He asked, slightly irritated.

"A wizard has appeared on the island."

"What? How the hell did that happen? No one but vampires should be able to pass the wards."

"I don't know, My Lord."

"Where is this wizard?"

"He was approaching the gates and appeared to be looking for entrance into the prison."

"Capture him and bring him before me." His voice was held low, barley above a whisper. "And find out how he was able to set foot on this island. I don't want this to happen again."

"Yes, My Lord." Jean-Claude gave a quick bow and left the room

"I think you frightened him." Neville said quietly.

"It will motivate him. This can't happen again." Jasper said darkly. There were too many lives at risk. Almost the entirety of the Clans was here, waiting until it was once again safe to venture out and live beyond the island itself. Neville just nodded in agreement. They waited in silence for the intruder to be brought in. They didn't have to wait long.

The door to the room swung open. Brutus drug in, what Jasper assumed to be, the intruder. A black terry-cloth sack was pulled over the man's head, and he was forced to kneel. Jean-Claude followed in and took up a position to the side of the enlarged lounge. Jasper propped himself up on an elbow to get a better look and nodded at Brutus to remove the black bag. An arched brow was the only sign of Jasper's surprise.

"Sirius Black." He stated. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to know where my godson is." It was only Brutus' hand that kept him kneeling on the floor when he tried to jump up.

"How did you get on the island?" He ignored Sirius' question.

"What do you mean 'how did I get on the island?' It isn't like you have any security." Sirius spat.

"I'll advise you, Mr. Black," Jasper sat up slowly. "To not tempt me to harm you." His voice was cold. Right now, he couldn't think of this man before him as his godfather. In this situation, he had to be a stranger. Answers were more important than anything else was. "Now, tell me how you were able to pass the protections surrounding this island."

"What protections?" He looked genuinely confused. Jasper frowned.

"There are vampire protections surrounding this island. Those humans who have left, shouldn't be able to find their way back onto it." Sirius shrugged, and Jasper turned to Jean-Claude. "Do you know if the Black family has any vampire ties that would bypass the wards?"

"I know of no one in that family. They've always been anti-creature, even back in the beginning of their line."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised." He said dryly. "I wonder… vampires need an invitation to enter a home, our wards negate that need, but what if it just reversed it? Making the wizards need the invitation?"

"But who invited him then, My Lord?"

"He escaped from prison, not released."

"Plausible." Neville said.

"Neville Longbottom!" Sirius nearly squeaked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Black, please be quiet." Jasper said dismissive tone. "I wonder how far this 'invitation' idea would spread. Would it stretch to all of the aurors who had been assigned previously without the duty officially revoked? Ministry officials? Anyone who has set foot on the island without being released from the prison?" His thoughts quickly turned to the Death Eaters. As much as he loved Tom, he'd never trust his minions on the island.

"If it were invitation, My Lord, a simple vocal revocation of it should keep others away."

"So saying 'I revoke everyone's invitation' should cover it."

"Theoretically, that worked."

"I don't like theory," Jasper stated. "The chances of it being wrong make me uneasy."

All of the vampires in the room nodded in agreement.

"Now," He looked over at Sirius. "What do I do with you?"

Suddenly Sirius looked nervous with all eyes in the room looking at him. Perhaps, in hindsight, Moony had been right in asking if he was insane because he most certainly hadn't thought this through. He sucked up the little courage within him and looked Jasper straight in the eye.

"I just want my godson, Harry."

Neville gave a slight twitch at the name. Jasper shot him a look.

"I told you, Harry is dead."

"You lie!" He shouted, and Brutus' grip tightened on his shoulder.

"Perhaps," Jasper agreed amiably. "But why would I lie about it? Not because he is the boy-who-lived. Not because he is Dumbldore's little pet or Voldemort's enemy. And not because he is of his mother's lineage. So give me a reason, Sirius Black, that I would lie about him being dead?"

"You wouldn't have killed him! I don't know why, but I know you didn't!"

"Jasper?" Neville asked softly.

Jasper frowned, just a slight down turn of his lips. He knew what Neville was asking, that he should just tell Sirius the truth of the matter, but it was safer for the man if he just believed Harry Potter dead for now. If he told Sirius, then the man wouldn't be able to leave the island until Dumbledore and his followers were either gone or incapacitated. Preferably the former, if there were any choice.

"Jean-Claude. Brutus." Both of the vampires nodded and left. Sirius watched them leave with a confused look. "I hope you understand exactly what it is that you are asking. You won't be able to leave Azkaban until it is all over unless you agree to be obliviated, perhaps not even then."

"Just tell me where Harry is." He said resolutely.

Jasper stood and walked towards the man. He held his face neutral, debating internally on how much to tell Sirius.

"He's here." He stopped just a few steps short of the animagus.

"I want to see him."

"And so you have."

A growl that sounded more in place in Sirius' second form tumbled from the man's throat. "I'd think that I'd remember if I saw him!"

"Father," Luna sounded decidedly amused, but Jasper still couldn't help but cringe. Father indeed. "You shouldn't play with your food."

Sirius paled to a ghostly white, and Jasper's lips quirked. It seemed as though Sirius had forgotten that, to a vampire, he was dinner.

"I've no intention of eating him, Luna." He looked back over his shoulder at her. She was sitting at the edge of the lounge and swinging her feet back and forth.

"Then may I?"

"Sorry, Luna. Maybe later, though." She gave a playful pout at him but nodded.

"Then you should quit teasing him."

"Alright, alright." He turned back to Sirius and spread his arms. "Hello, Padfoot." Needless to say, he wasn't expecting it when Sirius fell over in a dead faint. "Well, that _may_ have not been the best way to break the news to him."

Neville snickered. "Are you going to wake him up?"

Jasper looked down at the unconscious form and then back to Neville. "I'm not sure if he'll handle it any better a second time around."

"Maybe." Neville shrugged.

"Enervate." Jasper flicked his hand at the fallen man. Sirius woke with a jolt. His eyes were still closed, however, and he was palming his face.

"Moony, don't let me drink anymore today. I just had the strangest dream." He moaned.

"Do tell." Jasper said amusedly.

"I went back to Azkaban and was caught by those creepy leeches, and then they took me to the leech leader who then said that he was Harry! And they threatened to eat me, Moony!"

"I'm a leech leader now." Jasper stated dryly. "I think that's a demotion."

"It is." Luna agreed.

"Hell, it wasn't a dream was it?" Sirius looked like he was ready to sob.

"Nope." Luna answered entirely too cheerful.

"So, Sirius, do you want to stick around for explanations or do I have to find someone to obliviate you?"

In response, Sirius made himself comfortable on the floor and looked up expectantly. Jasper sat on the lounge and prepared to tell his story.

~..~

"Alright, Neville?" Jasper had found him in one of the numerous offices throughout the building. The younger vampire was bent over a clan history book in confusion, his brow furrowed tightly.

"I just don't get it!" He exclaimed in exasperation. "There's no sense to how the Clans are ordered. I've looked in every book, and all they say is this Clan ranks over this Clan but not why!"

"Calm down." He placated. "I can tell you that."

"Really?" Neville gave him a wide-eyed pleading look that was bordering on tearful.

"Really." Jasper nodded. He gave a quick look around. "Does Luna need to know or is this just a personal interest?"

"I don't really know." Neville shrugged almost uneasily. "It always mattered in pureblood culture, but I'm not sure about now. I mean, everyone here treats you kinda like a king."

"Yeah, that's a blood status thing." Jasper nodded. "I've never compared it to wizard culture, mostly because I never learned much about wizards I guess. I don't know exactly where to start…" He trailed off. "But I suppose that the beginning is always the easiest."

Jasper gave pause and wondered which beginning would be the best suited. A quick rundown would offer a quick explanation, but no understanding. It likely wouldn't stop Neville's frustration either. So, perhaps, the very beginning then.

"I guess that it all starts with the Mother of vampires. I'm not sure what she was, but I know it was never human. Either way, she came into being and was the first vampire in existence. The only one of her kind. I can't say why, but she made others and imbued them with all sorts of powers and abilities. They would be the Clans, the Twelve." Jasper recited what he'd learned in his time within that dark, nexus world.

"The Sang clan was her first, because blood was the most powerful object in the world at the time. They were given sway over that magic, able to accomplish impossible feats. The Sol clan was second. She gifted them the power to walk into the sun light without getting burned. The Luna clan were the first shape-shifters and able to take the form of wolves. She gifted the next clan, Fuga, with flight, and they were able to take to the skies without wings. Ignis held the gift of fire. The Umbra clan has the ability to manipulate and move through shadows. Those were the first clans; the one's whose names are still known and remembered today." He waited a moment, debating on whether to divulge the names and abilities of the lost clans, but pushed on.

"Falco was a clan gifted with shape-shifting and also immense tracking abilities. It was like a sixth sense for finding people. Terre, the clan you head, had a way with the earth. This very city was carved with their abilities to manipulate it. Mente, the clan of the mind, was… a little more diabolical most of the time. They were thought twisters, but they could also heal wounds in the psyche that no one else could even begin to work on. Fiara, the clan of the beast, Luna's clan, could call animals to their hand. Anything from mice to dragons, if they held enough power and control to do it. Lumina, the Light clan, is very much like the Umbra clan, save instead of shadow, they use light. Impressive, if I do say so, though it has to be a natural light, like fire or sunlight. The last was Anima, Soul. It was them who developed the soul magics that are still used today in the formal adoptions. They could do many things to a soul, destroy it, bind it, send it on, heal it. I don't know the full capabilities of that line." Jasper shook his head.

"What about the clan they always call you by?" Neville asked. "Anguis?"

"The Anguis clan was something else. The first of us sprung from nowhere, seemingly like the Mother did, but we were counted among their number – as though made of her- and that was that. We were given the name Anguis for the ability to commune with serpents. All serpents. Snakes obey because of the inherent magic we possess. They really don't have a choice if ordered. That wasn't our true ability though…" Jasper trailed off again.

"What was?" Neville asked curiously.

"Do you know the true divide in magic?"

"Eh… light and dark." He answered, thrown off by the sudden change in topic, and even more thrown when Jasper shook his head.

"No. The true divide within magic is Order and Chaos. Order magic is what we, vampires, wizards, veela, and even thestrals, use. Pretty much all magic here is order magic. It's the base of our abilities. When we cast a spell, the order magic… forms into a particular weave. The fine threads all come together to the final product, the spell we were going to cast. Chaos magic, though, is the opposite. Spells can't be formed with it at all. Most times, it destroys order magic on contact, destroying the spell weave and rendering it useless. It's a passive magic for the most part, usually coating the body."

"But what uses chaos magic then, if nothing here does?"

"Demons, mostly. It's why wizard spell work doesn't bother them. That's why you have to invoke greater powers through rituals or prayer to stand a chance. It's supposed to be impossible to control chaos magic. As I said, it's passive, but there's a way to force it to dissolve a source of order magic entirely."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, with the appropriate resources, chaos magic could turn a wizard into a muggle, kill a dragon, and even make a phoenix nothing more than a pretty bird."

"That would be a dangerous ability." Neville said solemnly.

"It is." Jasper agreed.

"Are you saying that the Anguis clan are demons?"

"No, but we hold chaos magic within us." Jasper shrugged. "No one knows how, or why, it happened. I don't think anyone wants to either, but that's the way it is. The Anguis clan was officially welcomed, and the Twelve became Thirteen."

"That doesn't really explain why you're on 'top' and how the rest of the clans order themselves." Neville pointed out quietly.

"The Anguis clan will always be at the head, despite what anyone else may say. The other vampires know, at least subconsciously, that we are truly dangerous, that there is something different about us. The rest have always gone by creation. You, Luna, and whoever I turn to head up the lost clans, though, will stand higher than them because I made you personally." Jasper shrugged. "I don't get why that's the way it is, but that's the way it is."

"So it's only the Anguis line that makes you special?" He asked in confusion. "But what about the other Royal lines that you're leading."

"Those are important too, but the Anguis line is what makes them take my orders without question. Like I said, somewhere in the back of their minds, they know that I could destroy what they are. Eventually, I'll pick someone to head those other lines and just take the role as Lord Anguis. I'll still be, by blood, the lord to the other lines, but I won't have a direct role."

"Okay… I think I get it all." Neville said hesitantly. Jasper gave a small smile.

"Let's just say, I'm the biggest fucking dog here, and leave it at that."

Neville gave a grin. "That does seem easier."

"So how are the wizard families ranked?" Jasper was honestly curious about it. When he was a wizard, he'd never bothered to learn any of that. Not that he had actually had an interest in it at the time but now, it could prove useful.

"It's about how far you can trace your line back. That's why you-know-who gets so many followers from the old families. He can trace his line back to Slytherin, and that means he's one of the oldest families around."

"I had always wondered about that." Tom had always been charismatic and powerful, and Jasper wasn't surprised that he'd gotten followers, but he'd never understood how so many people could follow Tom with his history. He may have abandoned his muggle name and taken up the title of Lord Voldemort, but it wasn't hard to link the two and discover that Tom was a half-blood.

"It's really only the old families that know."

"Does that mean that the muggle-born couldn't find out?"

Neville shook his head. "The old families don't talk about it, and any lineage records are sealed up."

"Oh." Jasper didn't understand _why_ the information was hidden from the muggle-born, but he didn't doubt that it had more to do with tradition than prejudice.

"Jasper, how can you have chaos and order magic? It doesn't seem like that should be possible."

Jasper gave a small shrug. "Just add it to the list of the impossibilities I've managed." He answered, not knowing how it was possible either.

"How's Sirius taking the news?"

"I had to get the letters he wrote me before he would believe that he'd helped me, and he's not entirely pleased with my… relationship with Voldemort, but overall pretty well. Now he's deciding whether he wants to become a vampire or not."

"What?" Neville asked, stunned.

Jasper nodded. "He said that he wants to take his godfather duties seriously, and that the best way to do that was to follow me around for a few hundred years making sure that I get into the 'right' kind of trouble."

"Does he realize that you're older than him?"

"I tried explaining it, but he didn't want to listen."

"How old are you anyway?"

Jasper thought about it for a moment. "I don't really know. Some of the times I lived through didn't have calendars, and others, I was only there for a short time, like a few weeks. It was hard to keep track of, but probably close to five hundred."

"What was it like? Travelling through time like that?"

"It was interesting, I suppose, but I wouldn't want to ever do it again."

"Was it… awful?"

"Not all the time, but eventually you just get numb to it all." Jasper said softly and looked away. His time spent in the past, while not all bad, weren't experiences that he cared to relive. They fell into an awkward silence, and Neville squirmed uncomfortably.

"So… uh, I read something about a council?"

Jasper gave a wry smile, but gladly accepted the change in topic. "The council was made up with the head of each of the clans, and they acted as a government body to the vampires. They kept the order, enforced the laws, and took a tight rein on those who would expose our presence to the humans later on." Jasper went on to describe how the council functioned and their purpose along with the difference between Clan and Flock.

~..~

Jasper found Sirius sitting in one of the many rooms available. He was stretched out, legs crossed at the ankles, and his arms folded behind his head. He appeared comfortable, and if Jasper couldn't sense the subtle notes of sadness in the room he would have believe the man to be relaxed.

"How are you doing, Sirius?" Jasper asked softly.

Sirius jolted in surprise at the sudden intrusion, but he plastered on a grin and gave an enthusiastic hello. Jasper frowned at him and took a spot on the vacated couch. Sirius slowly joined him, his smile slowly fading away.

"What's wrong, Sirius?"

"It's nothing, Harry." Jasper didn't correct him on the name, instead choosing to sit silently and stare at the man until he was given some form of explanation. "Really." Sirius claimed. Jasper felt an eyebrow rise.

"Sirius…" Jasper trailed off, but he quickly picked up again. "If you don't wish to remain here, the offer still stands. If I could let you keep your memories, I would, but it's just not safe."

"NO! No, that's not it."

"I can't help you unless you tell me what the problem is."

"I'm just used to having Remus around is all."

"You're lonely." Jasper stated plainly, and he could understand that. Sirius had been locked in a cell, alone, for twelve years, and the desire for familiar company –an old school pal, in this case- was understandable. However, there was the problem of Remus being a werewolf and that just wouldn't work. Unless….

"I can bring Remus here. You will have to live topside, however, outside the city."

Sirius frantically shook his head. "That wouldn't be a good idea. Remus is… well… Since he was bitten, he'd always taken a rather… dim view of things 'dark' in nature. He's rather… adverse to them."

"He is dark though, simply by being a werewolf."

Sirius frowned. He was a little uneasy about telling his friend's personal woes, but he pressed on. "Remus hates himself. A lot. And he takes that hate even further when he finds out something is dark. He's good at hiding it, but if you're around him enough, you start to pick up on it. Our friendship was strained for a while when he found out I was a Black, and when he found out Lily was a vampire… it went all to hell. He separated from the rest of us, got real distant. It was one of the reasons we thought he was the spy. After I went to prison, he didn't…. it wasn't you personally of course… but well…"

Jasper nodded. Remus had been distant when he'd been teaching in third year, despite his supposed 'closeness' with his parents. He'd thought nothing of it before he'd discovered the relationship with his parents, and he never brought it up afterwards either, thinking that it wasn't appropriate to ask such personal questions.

"I understand, Sirius. I won't bring it up again." Jasper said, ending Sirius' scramble for an explanation. "But is there anyone else you want brought? Someone to make your time easier?"

"No. It just takes some getting used to."

"Alright. I'll be going out tonight, so I won't be around. If you need anything ask Neville, Luna, or Jean-Claude. They'll help you out."

"Where are you going?"

"Hunting." And the smile that went with the answer was enough to send a tremble down Sirius' spine. Whoever was the target, Sirius did not envy them.

~..~

Jasper stood outside an unfamiliar home waiting for one of the occupants to answer the door. He was wrapped in deep red robes that, despite their brilliant color, blended into the shadows that had crept out upon the fall of night. He had traced Nymphadora Tonks to this address through ministry records, and it seemed the easiest way to snatch the woman. She wouldn't be prepared. The door finally swung open.

"Hello, Mrs. Tonks. I'm sorry to intrude this late, but I need to speak with Nymphadora on a matter of some urgency."

The woman's face was blank, but she gave a slow nod. "What is this call for?"

"I can't go into details, ma'am, but I can tell you that it has to do with an incident that involved several of her affiliates."

"There… hasn't been another murder, has there?" She asked in concern. Nymphadora had been so traumatized after witnessing the death of a fellow auror that she doubted that her daughter could handle another.

"No ma'am." He shook his head.

She still looked a little uneasy, but quickly turned and called into the house for her daughter. Andromeada gave Jasper one final look before disappearing into the house. Nymphadora backed out the door, laughing at something her mother had said and shut it before turning around. She looked up to greet her guest and the words died in her throat as fear gripped her.

"Hello, my dear Nymphadora." He smiled. She opened her mouth to scream but was abruptly cut off by a hand over her mouth. "Shh… none of that now." He cooed softly petting the hair that had bleached white in fear. "I promise that it won't hurt too bad."

Her eyes widened and a muffled scream clawed its way from her mouth as the shadows swept them away.

~..~

Tonks had passed out on the trip over. Jasper was a little disappointed that her tolerance for fear and panic was so low, but decided to ignore it on account of the fact that the last time she'd seen him, he'd gutted a man. He took her down to one of the old slave cells and waited for her to wake. He'd removed all magical items from her, especially any portkeys or tracking devices, and shackled her to the wall by her ankle. While waiting, he contemplated her fate.

Durring the span of his… incarceration, his interrogation under her hands had been far lesser in comparison to either Shacklebolt or Moody, so he didn't necessarily want to see her dead. Though that wasn't to say that if she became an inconvenience he would spare her either. Ending her life would be no chore, but perhaps she had use yet. If he thought about it, he would be able to come up with something appropriate. A groan drew his attention to his waking captive, and he took up a position next to the door, leaning against the wall.

Tonks sat up slowly. Her head was spinning, and she couldn't figure out for the life of her where the pounding headache had come from. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to stave off the searing pain that was sure to shoot through her skull once they were exposed to the light, and she was almost surprised to find that the room was dimly lit. She put her hand against the stone floor and gave pause. Stone floor? That wasn't right. There weren't any stone floors in her house.

"I must admit surprise auror Tonks," She started at the voice and looked up to meet gold eyes that quickly had her remembering her predicament. "I didn't expect you to pass out on our short little jaunt."

Nymphadora froze. She couldn't help it. All that training to deal with paralyzing fear, and she was so quickly reduced to this, like some small child who knew nothing other than to give into the fear and hope nothing bad happened when they hid beneath the covers of the bed. Unfortunately, she had no covers to hide from the monster smiling at her with glinting eyes and glistening fangs. A fine tremble ran up her body.

Jasper watched as she reduced to some shivering thing on the floor just from the sound of his voice and the look on his face. He had assumed that she was stronger than this, but he also knew what witnessing violent death did to someone. He looked down at her without a change in his expression. She seemed so bright and colorful in the dank room despite her deep fear. He blinked as a sudden thought occurred to him. It would be interesting to see if he could make her into something akin to a pet by digging into her mind and removing memories. It would be much like an obliviate, save for the fact that it was done manually.

"Hush, child." He tilted her chin up so that she was staring directly into his eyes. "This won't even hurt." He promised as he dove into her head and encountered no resistance to the intrusion.

It was easier than he thought it would be. Her mind was such a fragile place, cracks running through her psyche. He dug into her memories, destroying bits here and there and imposing images of himself in others. Her friends, her family, lovers, associates, comrades… all gone with only the vaguest sense of who they were left. He twisted until there was nothing left in her mind except for information and her new undying loyalty to him, her Lord and Master.

Jasper pulled away slowly, careful to not damage her mind any further and astounded by the changes he'd been able to make. He'd never expected to be able to so thoroughly wipe her past away with only his skills, but he had. His lips pulled into a fierce smile. Break them enough and true skill wasn't needed. Her eyes cleared and looked up at him with a devotion Jasper had only seen in Bellatrix to Voldemort.

"Master?" Jasper chuckled softly and stroked her hair and petted her cheek gently. She leaned into his touch, like a dog that enjoyed attention.

"Are you feeling better then, pet?"

"Yes."

Jasper started cooing at her again, and he undid the cuff at her ankle. Betrayal wasn't even a possibility any longer. She lived to serve him. It was her only desire any longer. "Come along then."

She got to her feet immediately and followed him from the room, right at his heels and just slightly off to the left. Jasper came to a sudden halt, his head snapped to the left, and gaze distant. The snake amulet at his neck hissed in discontent, soft whispers of danger and anger reaching his ears. His lips drew back into a snarl. Whoever was with Tom was going to die, especially if what the snakes were claiming was true. Dumbledore was taunting Tom with information of a destroyed soul fragment. He looked at Tonks with such fierceness that she flinched away.

"Find one of the vampires. Tell them who you belong to and that I want you appropriately fitted for your station. You will then tell them to take you to my quarters. You are free to use the bed there in my absence. Other accommodations will be made later. Now go." She hurried away and Jasper was wrapped up and pulled down by the shadows.

~..~

Voldemort swept into the atrium with a swift glide, his cloak floating behind him like a black cape. The Death Eater's fanned out, sticking to the shadows that fell in the afterhours. He signaled them off to either side, to take their formations as they moved. They progressed further down, taking the lift down to the Department of Mysteries corridor. The Death Eaters split off into groups of three and cloaked themselves deeply in the dark. Dumbledore would be arriving soon with his Unspeakable escort, and with their Lord's warning ringing loudly in mind, they weren't going to make any mistakes.

The department was empty as usual, and the few Unspeakables that might be present at this time of night, were locked away into the experimental rooms that were in the deepest parts of the sector. The ding of the lift reaching the floor echoed down the hall, and the Death Eaters all readied themselves. The doors slid open. Dumbledore stepped out and was followed quickly by a man in heavy violet robes. A hood and a swath of fabric across the lower half of the man's face hid the Unspeakable's identity.

Voldemort held up a hand that was only visible to the Death Eaters ordering them to hold. The only sound in the hall was the scrape of robes on the floor and the soft clicks of shoes on the tile. They waited, silent and tense, until the two other wizards were directly in the center of their ambush. Voldemort sprung his trap. Spell fire lit from the shadows and crashed against a shield that quickly collapsed against the onslaught. It was only a moment, but one that proved advantageous for the two who were surrounded.

Others, members of the Order of the Phoenix, slipped out from behind false walls that were cleverly hidden with charms. They snapped off their own curses, lighting the hall in a bright array of colors and forcing the Death Eaters into a defensive. The Unspeakable shredded his robe and hood with a spell exposing himself as one of the Weasley's and darted to the side. Voldemort hissed a curse that ripped open a large gash on the Weasley boy and sprayed his own robes with blood. Apparently the paperwork for an Unspeakable meeting had been forged and the Department of Mysteries' workers were unknowing of the madness that was taking place. Voldemort was forced to dodge an object hurled at him by Dumbledore.

"You should have known better than to appear tonight, Tom."

"You knew the results of your decision you doddering old fool." Voldemort hissed and fired off a cutting curse. "You knew that I would come for my ancestors' possessions."

"This was reckless of you." Dumbledore deflected the curse and it tore through one of the Death Eater's robes.

Voldemort spat several curses, all of them strung together and falling in a spray across the room. Order members cried out in pain as the curses rained down. He took the moment to see how his followers were fairing. They were losing their ground quickly. He didn't have much time. He wanted the ring back.

"Where is it?" He growled out, splashing more curses against Dumbledore's men enjoying the pain on the old man's face as he tried to protect himself and the Order members from the bursts of dark magic. Voldemort lashed out again when he received no answer. A woman shrieked as the curse cut across her back, sending her into the wall before she crumpled to the floor in a heap. That's when Voldemort noticed that the fool was stalling. His lips curled into a sneer. The lift door dinged and opened.

"Destroyed." Albus finally answered. Voldemort roared in rage and slashed his wand horizontally through the air. His magic whipped out, following the strike with enough force that Dumbledore was forced back. Crimson eyes darted towards the lift where the minister and auror guards stared on in disbelief.

"Fall back you fools!" He spat over his shoulder, and he disappeared from the hall along with all of the Death Eaters.

~..~

"Albus Dumbledore! I don't care how much power you have, or how much you _think_ you are _entitled _to! I won't stand to have innocent civilians caught up in your ruses to make me believe that – that _he_ is back! Not to mention the destruction to ministry property! I'll have your Wizengamot seat for this!"

Dumbledore was trying to calm Cornelius down, but the man was having none of it. Red-faced and pacing his office furiously, he fell into a diatribe that seemed to resound within the whole building and making the aurors who stood in the room flinch. Those who had accompanied Dumbledore, namely the Order, had all been taken to holding cells awaiting the decision on whether or not they were going to be persecuted.

"Cornelius, please, that man wasn't a civilian at all. That was Voldemort himself." Albus inserted calmly. It only served to enrage the minister. When Tom had shown up in the ministry looking like… well, Tom, he knew that his plans had been for naught. He had never expected Voldemort to give up his intimidating veneer, or even that it was possible to do so. He'd been completely caught out. Now his only hope was convincing Fudge on the true identity of the man. A task that he already was aware that was likely to fail. He could only try, however.

"I know you think I'm a fool, Dumbledore, but even I know that that man looks nothing like you-know-who! Besides lacking certain… serpentine features, he was far too young, in his twenties at best."

"Cornelius, just listen a moment."

"And when the papers get a hold of this-" He moaned as if in pain. "The public will expect us to compensate the young man." His disposition suddenly turned livid again. "And you, _you and your cohorts_, if I could, I'd see you all hanged for this! Trying to incite panic like this! Do you even realize what you could have started?" Fudge hissed. "The upheaval would be devastating! They would riot!"

"Surely you heard the man call the retreat, Cornelius. The others followed after him when he fled." Albus pointed out, trying for a logical argument, though he doubted that Fudge would listen considering the state the man was in.

"Considering the circumstances of this evening, I can't tell anything. The man may have been coerced." Cornelius snarled. "Now, get out. You can be sure that there will be a hearing considering your actions tonight

~..~

Jasper was within Voldemort's private chambers waiting for the man to return. The sense of danger and urgency had passed, but he needed to see Tom before he could leave again. Self-assurance, he supposed. He needed to know because not knowing absolutely, despite what his senses told him, would be worse. The thought of this being the first time he didn't trust his instincts passed his mind, but he quickly pushed the thought away. Voldemort came into his rooms, and Jasper stilled immediately.

His dark robes were splattered with darker spots, as if water had splashed up on him, and only Jasper's keen nose told him that it was blood. Voldemort's dark magic pulsed about him in a thick aura of black that saturated the room and sent a tingle up the vampire's spine. There was something… suffocating about that power. Jasper wanted to drown in it, fall into the darkness and never come back up. It was a dangerous feeling, like being on the cusp of death, and it should have worried him that he felt like surrendering to it.

"You smell like blood," Jasper almost didn't realize that the voice was his. "And dark magic."

Voldemort turned slowly, rage in his crimson eyes. Jasper ignored it. The feeling wasn't directed at him. Something had happened, but finding out what that was, was distant from Jasper's mind. He approached slowly, the magic in the air making him shift in a sensual sway, his whole body flowing into the movement. He was lost in the enticing feel of Voldemort's magic, and his own dark reached up and out of him twisting into the other's. It drew a ragged sound from his throat and his golden eyes darkened to a glowing amber. He stepped up, pressing the lines of their bodies together, and he wrapped his arms tightly around Tom's waist.

Voldemort gave a low hiss, his hands winding into Jasper hair and pulling harshly, exposing the pale line of his throat and biting into it. Jasper gasped and fisted his hands in Voldemort's robes. Voldemort turned suddenly and slammed Jasper against the wall before devouring the vampire's mouth in a harsh clash of teeth and tongues. Jasper's fangs split open Voldemort's tongue as it dove into his mouth, and he sucked on it greedily.

*****

A quietly muttered spell cut open the front Jasper's robes, and Tom dropped his head to bite and lick along the collar bone. Jasper threw his head back as deft fingers worked his chest, caressing his nipples, and then slashing down, leaving welts in their wake that quickly faded. He didn't fight the roll of his hips or the way his hands suddenly spasmed and tore through Tom's thick cloak. Tom pulled away suddenly, making Jasper whimper for the loss of the other's body, and Tom's lips curled into a sadistic smile. Jasper was divested of the rest of his robe, and with quick wand work, Tom had reduced his shirt to shreds. The fabric was suddenly twisted and his arms were pulled above his head.

"What?" He asked dazedly and looked up in confusion to find his hands caught on one of the light fixtures. He turned back to Voldemort.

"This is going to hurt." It wasn't said as a warning, a way to tell Jasper to run, just a statement of fact, and Jasper couldn't find it within himself to want to escape. There was something needy in Tom's voice, a hidden vulnerability that hinted at a kind desperation. Tom needed this, and Jasper was only too happy to comply.

More teeth and nails sent Jasper to writhe against the wall. The harsh, almost cruel, touches making him give breathy moans, and he wrapped his hands in the remains of his shirt to keep from the temptation of ripping them apart to touch Tom. His belt was undone and slowly slid free of the loops of his pants. The soft leather was folded in half and trailed down his chest and stomach, making the muscled flutter at the nearly not-there touch. Tom lashed out, and the belt hit Jasper's skin with a crack. Jasper bucked from the wall with a cry.

"Fuck!" It wasn't a word said in pain.

The mark faded. Jasper hung limply in the bonds, his head tilted down. He'd never known himself to be a masochist; never before found pleasure in pain, but this… there was something different in this. Perhaps it was the magic that had minute shudders running up his body, or maybe it was just because it was Tom. He didn't know, and, as another strike lay across his torso, he couldn't bring himself to care much. He threw his head back, clenching his teeth. Tom's hand wound into his hair again, jerking his head down to look him in the eye.

"I want to hear you scream." He hissed, red eyes flashing.

"Make me." Jasper purred, and he couldn't figure out, for the life of him, why he was doing this, wanting this, but he did. And he was going to get it.

Tom snarled, dropping the belt to the floor and drawing his wand. Jasper braced himself, half expecting the cruciatus, and was surprised when Tom cast a spell on his own hand wordlessly. The Dark Lord's lips pulled into a feral smile, more a baring of teeth, and traced a single finger down his chest. Jasper arched in surprise, a strangled sound crawling out his throat. His body twisted, both shying from, and moving into, the pain curse that surrounded Tom's hand. He chuckled, and then Jasper was stripped entirely, held bare before the other.

"_Do you know how delicious you look right now?"_ Parseltongue spilled over Tom's lips. His fingers flowed down the curve of pale hip and made a lazy path up the inner thigh. _"Tied up, panting, and trying to keep from begging for more." _

He wrapped a hand, just briefly, around Jasper's length. The vampire howled and thrust his hips up. Voldemort pulled him in to another kiss.

"_Beg me."_ He hissed. _"Beg me to take you here, against the wall."_ He dug his nails into the flesh of Jasper's back as the other hand stroked him.

Jasper tossed from side to side in his fetters. He didn't beg, but damn Tom was making that a hard decision to stick to. Especially when he was touched just so and the pleasure of the caress and the pain of the curse sent such conflicting signals. He would not beg. He would _not_ beg. Tom's thumb circled the head of his cock teasingly.

"Please!" He keened. He could learn how to beg as long as it got him what he wanted. Tom gave a throaty laugh, gasping a thigh and drawing it up. Jasper didn't know when Tom had lost all his clothes, and by now he was far more concerned with other things.

"_Scream._"

Tom thrust in brutally. Jasper gave a ragged cry that made his throat feel raw. It was only because he was no longer human that he could find pleasure in such a savage act. Jasper bowed from the wall, pulling hard enough on his bonds that the fabric and fixture creaked in protest. His legs wound around Tom, pulling him closer, trying to pull him deeper as incoherent words slipped out his mouth. Tom hands danced over his body still, sometimes in a gentle caress that suddenly changed to drawing bloody lines up his tied form, and it only made him cry out all the more.

Sweat slicked skin glowed in the soft light of torches, and the scent of blood was almost as heavy as the scent of sex. Magic pulsed and thrummed in time with Tom's thrusts and even with its pressure it only seemed to push them closer into a euphoric haze that nothing seemed to pierce. Jasper, even bound and held as he was, managed to arch and writhe with every move, accentuating each finished motion with small erotic sounds that only seemed to make Tom's pace more frantic until they were both finally pulled to climax and the magic crashed around them.

*****

Jasper cut the bonds that held him with his claws and dropped, almost gracefully, to the floor. His arms found their way around Tom almost immediately, and they stumbled over to the bed together. He pulled the Dark Lord down between the satin sheets and fitted himself around the man's back as he fell into an exhausted sleep. Jasper petted his hair gently as he listened to the quiet sounds of a heartbeat and even breathing. A soft smile curled his lips.

~..~

_A/N: Thank you to all who reviewed. You know that I appreciate it. Thanks to my beta too._

_Darkly Glorious Bastard: For Dumbledore I didn't make him the ultimate evil since that's still Voldemort's role. He's just a bit crazy and getting crazier as it goes. Loss of forethought, paranoia, perhaps something bordering on dementia and schizophrenia... I haven't fully decided. I am, though, still working to keep from just bulldozing his character entirely like a really, really want to. lol. Everything so far _is_ the way I intended, but maybe I should add in some more bits where his ... loss of ability... is more evident? Something to think on._

_'demort: Yeah, Voldemort looks like Tom now unless specifically stated otherwise._


	20. Chapter 20

_**The Lord Anguis**_

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_The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon_

_which enables it to strike and destroy its victim._

_~ Sun Tzu_

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Jasper stepped from the small platform he'd been on, his crimson robes swirling gently as he moved. He looked at the mirror one last time, admiring the spell work that had given him some silver streaks throughout his dark hair and the charms that made his face look more angular and aristocratic. The changes weren't drastic, but it was enough of a difference that he wouldn't be seen as Jasper Cole. Any similarities could be put to the process of turning since there were some vampires whose looks changed almost entirely. Not many, however.

He turned to face his entourage. Neville, Luna, and three nameless guards were coming with him, each with their own donor so they wouldn't have to hunt off grounds during their stay. Nymphadora sat on folded legs just off to the side, quiet unless spoken to and ready to obey any command. She would be his donor for the time.

"Ready?" All of those present nodded their ascent, and Jasper turned to the rooms other occupant. "You're in charge. I'll need regular letters sent to me by my alter ego."

"Yes, My Lord." Jean-Claude gave a curt half bow. "Your transportation has arrived and is awaiting you at the gates."

The transportation, as Jean-Claude had called them, were a dozen Nightmares, one for each vampire and donor. The horses shuffled and snorted at the gates of Azkaban, but let the riders mount them easily. Jasper had to wonder where Jean-Claude had found them, as locating just a single Nightmare was a task – let alone twelve of them, but he decided that it was, perhaps, better not to know. The births of such creatures were often gruesome, and Jasper could bet that the blond had somehow induced a situation where more came into being.

Jasper's Nightmare, the leader of the heard, tossed its head in a gesture of impatience. The vampire patted its neck and chuckled quietly. "Alright then. If you're in such a hurry to go, then go." It snorted again, and flames lit around its legs. Hooves clicked on the hard stone, and then the Nightmare bolted forward. Jasper grasped the reigns and leaned into the movement. He felt the shift in weight just before the horse launched up into the air, its magic catching and giving it flight. The other eleven quickly joined him in the air, their own Nightmares soaring with loping gaits.

Jasper's thoughts turned to the coming meeting. They would be meeting Voldemort at his manor home where they would be staying for a time to work out an official alliance between the Death Eaters and the vampires. He was hoping that there wasn't going to be too much negotiating on the terms as he was a horrible negotiator. Things were going to be the way he wanted. Compromise wasn't really an option most times. It was a trait that he'd picked up over his years and the time with Tom had only exacerbated it. They really were a lot alike in many ways. That was probably the only reason Tom could stand to be around him, in fact. Jasper knew when he was able to push and when to back off.

The world passed quickly beneath them. First the sea, then the shore, and trees, villages, cities, forests. It was quite the sight, the way the land moved under them. It made him long for his broom in a way, wanting the control and maneuverability to drop into dangerous dives and complicated turns. The only flying beast able to move even close to the way a broom did wasn't one that he would get close to with a choice; dragons were a little too dangerous, even for a vampire.

~..~

Dumbledore sat in his office with his head buried in his hands. He had managed to avoid an arrest by giving up his place in the Wizengamot, but that hadn't saved the other Order members who were still waiting in their cells for Amelia Bones to decide whether or not that there would be charges pressed. He had no contacts within that department anymore to be able to pull off some sort of miraculous rescue that would leave even their records expunged. He still hadn't discovered what had happened to Nymphadora either. It seemed like she'd dropped off the face of the earth. The door to his office opened.

"Hello, Severus. You have something to report?" Albus' voice was tired and his face was no different.

"The vampires are to be arriving late today or early tomorrow. He was also very pleased in your failure in exposing him, and expects a sympathizer to his cause to be elected in your place on the Wizengamot."

"Do you know what he plans for his alliance with the vampires?"

"No. He's said nothing, though I believe that the offer must have been enticing since the vampire lord is coming to the Dark Lord's manor."

"You are sure of this?" Albus asked in surprise. Vampires were notorious for not venturing beyond their territory boundaries. Not only to keep the peace between groups, but also to keep an upstart from attempting to overthrow the Master and causing dissention within the group.

"The Dark Lord claimed such himself. We are to stay out of the way and keep from offending any of the vampires. To do so would be at our own risk."

"I see. Keep me informed."

Severus nodded and disappeared back through the door. Albus slumped in his chair. If the vampires aligned entirely with Voldemort and lent the man their forces, it wouldn't take long for him, and the Order by default, to be put in a tenuous situation. His only chance would be to somehow convince the minister of Voldemort's return. There had to be some way before it became too late…

~..~

Lucius was waiting at the gate of the manor for them as they touched down. Jasper slid gracefully from his mount. Luna and Neville stepped up behind him, and the guards behind them. The humans were at the very back, huddled together and standing quietly as they were supposed to. The blond man, obviously distracted by their unusual method of arrival, failed to greet them, and Jasper turned to Luna with a small smile curving his lips.

"Would you mind asking them to wait near the manor until it's time for us to depart, Lady Fiara?"

"Of course not, Lord Anguis." Her blue vampire robes flowed around her as she spun towards the stallion and placed her hand on its snout. The Nightmares trotting away into the neighboring forest seemed to snap Malfoy out of his stupor as he abruptly straightened and addressed the envoy.

"Vampire Lord Anguis, My Lord sends his greetings and is waiting for you within the manor. Would you like the time to see your rooms or perhaps get something to eat before meeting with him?"

"I'll meet with the Dark Lord Voldemort now. You may, however, take my guests to their own rooms. Nymphadora, you will attend with me."

Lucius started at the name and jerked badly upon seeing that it was, in fact, the auror woman he had thought it was. When had the girl been kidnapped? When had she decided to serve the vampires? As a donor no less? It was only his years within his lord's service that helped him to keep his tongue. He would have never suspected this.

"If you would follow me?" He gave a curt bow to the vampire before turning and leading them into the house where another Death Eater awaited. "Take the Lord Anguis' guests to their rooms." He ordered and then once more turned to Jasper. "My Lord is awaiting you in his sitting room."

Jasper nodded and gestured for Malfoy to once more proceed. The halls that he was lead through were, surprisingly, only vaguely familiar. He'd only been in this part of the manor a single time, and that had been when Tom was readying some papers to take to the were-animal communities. The blond stopped outside a door and knocked. A call to enter had the man opening the door and standing aside to allow the vampire through first. Voldemort stood from his chair upon seeing that it was the Lord he'd been waiting for to arrive.

"Lord Anguis, I'm pleased to have you here."

"Thank you for the hospitality, Lord Voldemort." Jasper said. "If it isn't too presumptuous, I'd like to skip the niceties and get straight down to business."

"I must say you are not like the other master vampires I have met before." Voldemort pointed out as he took a seat and gestured to the one directly across from him for Jasper to sit in. He barely spared a glance for the woman, who he knew was an auror, that took her place on the floor next to Jasper's feet.

"She's no threat." Jasper said as he noticed Voldemort's attention. "In fact, she isn't even an auror anymore. Reported missing, presumably dead, according to today's reports."

"Interesting. Is she a willing servant?" He asked curiously. From what he had learned of the girl, she had the unfailing loyalty of a Hufflepuff and devoted to the light. It was more than that she was just a servant to him though, she was supposed to be a small show of strength from the vampire lord.

"Now she is." Jasper cooed and patted her head. "An interesting method, though a secret one, I'm afraid." He leaned back into his chair. "As for the other master vampires you've spoken to, they're little better than half-breeds in our culture."

"Oh?" Voldemort leaned forward in interest. This was the first he'd heard of this. Vampires were a secretive group, and the only information on them, or their sociology, was limited to what was observed or willing to be told.

"Yes. I am, and those with me are, of the original vampiric lines. The vampires that are commonly dealt with are merely the result of a mutation in the vampire virus."

"You haven't elected to get rid of them?"

"There really is no reason to. They leave us alone and we deal with the rogues that appear every so often that the vampire hunters miss. With their existence, no one looks beyond to see if anything more exists."

"You use them as a diversion."

"Of sorts." Jasper freely admitted.

"I'm curious to know why you want me to know this."

Jasper leaned into back the chair, crossing his legs at the ankle, and casually laying his arms on the chair. A small, almost mocking, smirk came to his lips. He knew that he looked arrogant, but that was the point of it. "I wanted you to know that I'm not just a vampire, not just a master –as those weaklings are. I didn't want you to mistake what I am by your past dealings. That would be an insult I could never tolerate, one I would have to demand retribution for, but I'm sure that, with the knowledge you now hold, that would never happen, yes?" His gold eyes flashed with a hundred malicious scenarios.

"Is that a threat?" Voldemort sneered, a hand twitching towards his wand.

"Not at all." Jasper stated simply. "I would just hate for there to be a breech between us before we can even come to an agreement on where the vampires shall stand, don't you?"

Voldemort sat stiffly in his chair, his sneer gone for the moment though his anger was still apparent. Jasper had to admit that this stance was different. He hadn't been so confrontational before with Tom. That attitude would have gotten him nowhere fast, but it was refreshing to be able to act on his first impulses without having to temper himself to an acceptable level that wouldn't alienate the other.

"What is it that you are looking for in an alliance with me?" He hissed.

"I want the vampires to be allowed, freely, within wizarding areas such as Diagon Alley or Hogsmead. The hunters… I want them gone."

"You wish no place in the government?" Voldemort asked with some suspicion.

"We are our own government. To ask for a place in yours would be asking to dissolve ours. The cultures are too different to allow that."

"I won't allow wizards to become vampire fodder."

"I wouldn't expect you to, but most vampires stay away from food that can fight back. Those that don't often end up dead quicker than others."

"How would you deal with a vampire attack then?"

"If the victim lives it would be assault, and the vampire should be punished accordingly. If the victim dies… I'd prefer not to lower our numbers even further so perhaps an alternative will be made."

"Perhaps." Voldemort agreed. His fingers fell into a rhythmic pattern on the arm of his chair. The vampire Lord's demands for the return in their alliance really weren't so much. Anguis was realistic, and made no outrageous requests. It was all perfectly reasonable. So why did he have such a bad feeling about this? The vampire sat there with that cocky smirk, and Voldemort couldn't help but feel that the vampire deserved that look. There was something hidden under that casual, if dangerous, demeanor. Something the vampire wasn't telling him in words but was carefully hinting at with those eyes. It made him wary. Even more so since he, in his first rise, had a reputation for reneging on an agreement.

"And what do I get out of this?" Voldemort asked.

"Able bodies in battle, spies, healers, and interrogation experts."

"There are no other crafts under your reign? Vampires hadn't seemed so battle oriented."

"I can't bring the promise of cooperation beyond battle. Those other skills are personal ones, and I don't believe I should force them to perform."

"You've given me much to think about. Shall we continue tomorrow?"

"Very well." Jasper nodded and stood.

"Lucius will lead you to your room." At the blonde's name, the door open and said man stepped inside.

Jasper nodded again and swept from the room with Nymphadora directly behind him.

~..~

A maniacal smile twisted across Jasper's face as he looked down at the missive in his hand. It seemed as if the vampires within the ministry had proven more useful than he had expected. They had managed to detain the Order of the Phoenix within the holding cells since they'd been caught fighting 'false' Death Eaters within the ministry. Jasper didn't know the particulars, a report on that wasn't very forth coming, but he suspected what had happened and, either way, it worked out for him. There was one particular guest of the cells that he was looking forward to visiting. Especially since the bastard was so paranoid that no one had his address.

"I'm going out. Tell anyone that comes for me that I will be back before morning."

"Yes, Master." Shadows lifted and pulled him from the room.

Jasper's feet touched down softly within the corner on the ministry's atrium. He straightened his robes of invisible wrinkles and stepped forward into the empty room. Finding the department of law enforcement wasn't hard. Nor was locating where the holding cells were. In fact, the most difficult part was slipping through the wards and setting up his own silencing perimeter around Moody's cell without tripping any alarms or alerting any of the prisoners to his presence among them. He did, after all, want the scene to look suitably gruesome and without any thing to tell of his passing. It was disappointing though that, with all the murders of recent, no one thought to step up the security. For all the aurors knew, one of the men or women in these cells could be a homicidal psychopath. Unlikely, but possible.

Jasper stopped outside the cell door and paused for a moment to look inside. Moody was tucked back into the furthest corner while sitting on what was supposed to pass as a bed. A toilet was opposite the bed, still in full view from the door, and other than that, the room was bare. Jasper traced a pale finger over the lock on the door, and it opened with a small click. The sound, no matter how low, had woken Moody, though he still feigned sleep. Jasper stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

"Mr. Moody." He greeted. "I'm surprised that they've held you here with your past record as an auror."

The man's magical eye swirled and he finally looked up at the visitor who he knew for certain was not supposed to be here. He took a moment to examine the other. The spells changing the visitor's features lit in a blue hue, but he couldn't see through them to tell what he actually looked like. That lent more credence to the idea that this wasn't an authorized talk.

"Who are you?" The grizzled auror growled.

Jasper blinked at him a few times before remembering the spells on his face. With a wave of his hand they were gone, leaving him as he normally looked. "My name is Jasper, Mr. Moody. I have no doubt that you remember me from our last encounter." He moved as if to sit down and the shadows moved to form a black chair. He was trying to avoid casting magic as much as possible, especially the more powerful spells like conjuring since the alarms on the cell would trip from that level of magic.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing much since I doubt you'll answer my questions."

"You're damn right I won't."

Jasper nodded. "Since that is the case, I have only one goal in mind tonight. You see, I've come to kill you." It was said in such a casual, offhand way that Moody was momentarily stunned, if not a little confused as to what, exactly, the vampire meant, and then it clicked. The old auror jumped up, instinctively reaching for a wand that wasn't there.

"Just like a dark creature to kill an unarmed man." Moody sneered.

Jasper just shrugged. "That is a reason why the Light side looses so many people. You believe in a fairness that holds no place in war."

Alastor couldn't argue that fact, but it was what was expected of them. He wasn't against killing by any means, but generally, his fellows thought fights were supposed to be fair, on equal footing with no advantage to one side or the other that ended with the capture of the 'bad guys'. A few years as an auror most often changed one's perception, but they usually weren't good enough to last so long. He gave an old, tired sigh and sat back onto the bed.

"I'll answer some questions if you will answer some of mine."

Jasper's brows rose in surprise. Wasn't _this_ a turn of events? What could the other possibly be thinking? There couldn't be hope of a rescue; no one was coming by for at least three more hours. He'd already promised death so it couldn't be that Moody hoped to send the information he learned off. Not to mention that Alastor was notoriously anti-dark. So why…?

"Ask your question, then." He wasn't so curious as to find out and ruin his chances though, not yet.

"Why does Albus hide information of your death? Why doesn't he want people looking into your past?"

He thought about it for a moment before answering. "He was the one that killed me. Dumbledore cast the killing curse to take my life. I don't doubt that if that were to get around, his reputation would be ruined. I looked over the old papers, and they all danced around the actual method of my death." Moody nodded in understanding. "My turn. What did you hope to gain by questioning the students last school year?"

"We wanted to see which students would flee. We suspected that those who left entirely would be those with secrets to keep, like Malfoy. No one expected the media to find out and start an inquiry."

Jasper chuckled. So the questioning really had nothing to do with Harry Potter after all. It was just a cover to keep most of the students from asking about the legality of the situation. "Yes, that was clever of the other side, wasn't it." Alastor only sneered again.

"What happened to Harry Potter?"

"The boy truly is dead. He actually died the summer of his fourth year."

"Then who was that at the school?"

"Ah ah, it's my turn again." Jasper waggled his finger. "Does the Order know anything of Sirius Black's disappearance?" He wondered what they had thought of the man suddenly vanishing from their headquarters.

"No, and his werewolf friend refuses to say anything. Now, who was it that was posing as Harry Potter at the school."

"Me, actually." Jasper waved his hand over his face. Familiar green eyes, wild black hair, and a lightning bolt scar appeared. "I'm an accomplished actor, if I have to be." He wiped his face of the spells and resumed his normal form.

"That's why you're killing."

"Well, did you really think that I would let my torture at your hands go without any retaliation? Revenge is one thing that vampires specialize in. After all, we have an eternity. I doubt that you are willing to tell me about the Order."

"I may be willing to give you useless tidbits, but I won't sell them out."

"I guessed that." Jasper nodded. "Why are you willing to give me any information at all? It's very unlike you. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would say that you were polyjuiced." _Again_, he added to himself.

Moody gave a wry smile at that, likely remembering the entirety of his stint as 'professor'. "Something is happening. There's a change on the magic that's disturbing the natural flow." His glass eye moved wildly for a moment before locking on to Jasper with a fierce focus. "Voldemort and Dumbledore are in the center of it, the eye of the storm, but you're there too. I don't know who you really are, and I don't think that I'll get an answer to that, but whatever you're going to do, you better do quickly. The Dark Lord is insane and Dumbledore… well, something is wrong with him. He's not the same man he used to be. At the rate they're going, the whole of this world will be torn apart."

Jasper frowned at the man's explanation. He, too, felt the disturbance in the magic, but it was still fairly quiet as of yet. The destructiveness that Moody was hinting at was far off still. Unless… "Do you have seer blood?" He asked softly.

"Aye, just a bit." Moody nodded, answering even though it was his turn for a question. "No visions, thank Merlin, but enough to feel what's coming. What did you do with the Potter boy?"

Jasper made an exasperated noise. Really, what was it with the man and his fascination? He was like a dog with a bone. "I told you, I killed him."

"I don't believe you. Potter was worth too much alive to simply kill off." Moody grunted, and Jasper hissed at him.

"What does it matter what happened? The end result is the same. Harry Potter is gone and everyone is better off. Well, almost every one since he was the Light's only hope of winning, so they, technically, aren't better off, but -" Jasper cut himself off abruptly. He didn't want to fall into a rant about how no one actually liked the Light side, only choosing it as a lesser of evils. "Either way, it doesn't matter. Now, since you won't give up the members of the Order, I believe business is mostly concluded."

Jasper stood from the shadow-formed chair, and it disappeared. He slipped off his outer robe, folded it, and set it by the door of the cell. The smile that twisted his lips was empty and cruel. "Now, let's get the more enjoyable aspect of my visit tonight, shall we?" He pulled a dagger from his belt.

~..~

It was auror Dawlish who was on duty to check the ministry holding cells that morning. He'd gotten orders to release those members of the vigilante group, the Order of the Phoenix, and to notify them of their upcoming trials. He'd released the first two, both women, and moved to the third only to pause in shock, horror, and disbelief. Alastor Moody's cell was painted red. Blood, bone, and thicker things clung to the walls and ceiling, still dripping. What little was left of the corpse was centered in the middle of the cell with a bloody, smiling skull on top that stared at the door. A piece of something heavier fell to the floor with a splat into a small pool of blood. Dawlish turned into the hall and threw up.

~..~

"You were gone last night." Luna stated as she entered Jasper's room.

"I had some business." A sly smirk crept over his face.

"Would that business have anything to do with this?" She handed him a folded copy of the Daily Prophet.

He opened it with a casual flick and read the headline. _**Brutal Murder in the Ministry**_. Rita Skitter wrote the article, and Jasper had to wonder how she'd gotten her hands on the information so quickly. The death wasn't even twelve hours old, and she already had a majority of the information, including the fact that the remains were spread throughout the cell like 'some macabre art project.' He had to hand it to her, the article was nicely worded.

"It might have. Did you need me for something?"

"I –" She shook her head and looked at the floor a moment. Jasper frowned. It wasn't like Luna to be uncomfortable with anything. In fact, he could safely say that he'd never known her to be uncomfortable with anything what so ever.

"Luna, come here." He held open his arms, and she stepped into them. "Now, tell me what's wrong." He petted her blond hair.

"I want to feed."

"Then feed." He told her, not understanding why she wouldn't. It was why they'd brought the humans along, and she'd never had issue with it before.

"From you."

"Ah." That explained it a bit more. Jasper couldn't say that he was surprised. The few books he'd picked up with accurate vampire information had mentioned a childe feeding from their sire a few times. He hadn't, however, heard of it within the Clan vampires. That didn't necessarily mean anything though, as information pertaining to them was far more hidden and usually handed down verbally between the sires and children. He'd never had to deal with it personally as he'd been thrown back in time and his own 'sire' had been dead. There wasn't any reason to ask, either.

"Alright." He led her over to the couch and sat down, pulling her with him so that she was straddling his lap. She wouldn't meet his eyes though. "Luna, as far as I know, this isn't unusual, and if you want, it could be kept between us. There's nothing to worry about. You know that I'll do what I can to take care of you."

She smiled at him then, seeming to relax into his hold finally. "Thank you." She pressed a kiss to his cheek and dipped her head to his throat. He hissed a bit as dainty fangs slipped into his skin. He continued stroking her hair as she drank, surprised that the bite was neither painful nor pleasurable, just there. There was a knock at the door.

"Come back later." He barked, careful not to jostle Luna and end up tearing his neck open.

"J-Jasper?" It was Neville's voice.

"Luna?" He asked her quietly, and her hands tightened in his robes. "Is it alright if he comes in?" There was a pause and she gave the smallest of nods.

"Come in and close the door behind you." Neville did as asked and stopped upon spotting him and Luna. "What did you need, Neville?" The other didn't answer, unable to take his eyes from the vampiress in Jasper's arms.

"I'll – I'll come back." He started to take a step to the door.

"Sit down, Neville." Jasper pointed to the seat next to him with his free hand. Neville did so. "What's the matter?"

"It's… well, it's like…" He nodded at Luna. Jasper just extended his arm out. "You can't feed both of us at the same time!" He sounded so horrified by the idea that Jasper laughed.

"If I was a mortal creature, that would be true. I would die from the blood loss, but I'm already dead. You could drain me dry, and it won't matter. I'll just feed after you're done."

Neville didn't seem convinced, but he reached for the offered wrist anyway.

~..~

Jasper moved through the halls in a casual glide, taking the time to stop and admire old paintings or the statuettes that sat with alcoves. He was surprised to recognize quite a few of them even though most of his life had been spent in the muggle world. A flash of blond hair down the corridor caught his attention. He slipped after the other man silently, creeping up behind him. Carefully, he hid himself in the darkness that was always within Tom's manor and stalked closely behind Lucius. He reached out, catching some of that golden blond hair and running it between his fingers.

Lucius stilled, and Jasper could hear the man's heartbeat start to race as he pulled away. Silver eyes darted around suspiciously, and his hand crept towards his wand. Nervous energy thrummed through his muscles, but he quickly started to move again, passing the occurrence off as nothing more than his imagination. Jasper's lips quirked and he made another move at Lucius' hair. This time the man whipped around, wand drawn and pointed down a, supposedly, empty hall.

He turned again and started moving, steps just a little quicker this time. Jasper trailed invisible fingers down his throat and, once again, tugged playfully at the soft strands. Lucius seemed determined to ignore it. He hadn't seen anything, there wasn't anything there, and he wouldn't turn around again. He refused to. He did, however, make a completely undignified sound when a full hand pressed into his back. Still, though, he didn't stop, and he didn't look.

"Lucius." A voice purred in his ear, warm breath fanning over the shell of it.

His steps faltered only momentarily as he came to a decision. Propriety be damned! He took off at a run down the hall and didn't look back. Jasper loosed a full, throaty laugh when the man disappeared around the corner.

~..~

Albus snarled and pitched a glass ornament across the room where it shattered against the wall. Fawkes squawked in alarm. He ignored the bird and threw something else. Three! Three members of his Order, gone! Two dead, one presumed dead. How dare they? He would find out who did this and tear them apart before scattering their ashes to the wind! He forced himself to sit in the chair and refrain from breaking any more items within his office.

Voldemort had to be behind this. That vampire, Cole, too. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that they had a hand in this, and he would hunt them down like the dogs they were. He, almost violently, pulled a sheet of parchment in front of him and dipped a quill in the ink. It was time to call in a little extra help. No one he knew personally (_he wouldn't want to be linked to them_), but someone with a bit of a reputation at least. His hand flew across the page, his usual loopy writing harsh and jagged. A vampire hunter would, at least, keep Cole occupied and, hopefully, away from Voldemort for a short while. Perhaps a few of them… Yes, he knew just the people. Once he was done, he quickly moved to the owlery and sent the letter with a standard brown owl that was far too common to even begin to trace back.

~..~

"Death Eater! Here little Death Eater! Come out, come out!" Luna cooed as she walked. Neville walked behind her.

"I don't think they want to play, Luna." Neville snorted. He was uneasy about being within the Dark Lord's manor, and even more uneasy of the chances of coming across those who had harmed his parents, but he still found himself able to enjoy the visit with both Luna and Jasper to spend it with.

Luna pouted. "Do you think if I call them 'kitties' they'll come?"

"I'm… really not sure how that would make a difference."

"Death Eater treats?"

"You happen to have spare muggles laying around for them to torture?" He asked dryly with his face pulled into distaste at the Death Eater's favored pastimes.

"I suppose you're right." She pursed her lips. "What should we do then?"

"I'm sure that the forest has some creatures you can play with." Neville suggested.

"That does sound like fun." She admitted, changing direction to head outside. "Do you think Mr. Voldemort will be upset if I bring a few inside?"

Neville stumbled a little. "I think they would be happier outdoors." He offered. The last thing he wanted was for a pissed off Dark Lord to kill them because Luna wanted to bring a few 'pets' inside.

"You're probably right." There was a short silence then, "If we find any Death Eaters, do you think the animals would want to meet them?"

A vision of Death Eaters suffering violent deaths by being eaten alive, while amusing in an abstract way, wasn't something he wanted to be party to. In fact, he was starting to feel just a bit nauseous at the thought of it. "How about we just leave the Death Eaters alone?"

"If you think it best." She agreed easily.

The three Death Eaters that had hidden, and warded, themselves in a hall closet breathed a sigh of relief.

~..~

Jasper, as the Lord Anguis, sat confidently before Voldemort with that same arrogant look he'd had the last time they'd spoken. Judging by Voldemort's face, the man didn't appreciate the expression. Jasper flicked his hair over his shoulder and leaned back into his chair. The complete proposal of what the vampires expected if they helped in the war sat on the desk between them. It covered what little they'd spoken of before along with some of the finer points of what they, as a whole, wanted. Voldemort's own proposal sat next to it. It was surprisingly similar… save for one point that Jasper would not negotiate on.

"I won't allow for such segregation. Nor will I allow for the identifiable marks to be place on me or mine. That is not negotiable." His face hadn't changed from that blank, haughty look, but it wasn't hard to feel the rage that hung just beneath the surface.

"With such a hostile takeover, you can't expect the world at large to welcome you with open arms. Starting with this and then slowly converting to a more integrated life would be easiest." Voldemort stated while folding his hands on the desk.

"You must think me a fool," He said slowly and tapped the document with one long, sharp nail. "To think that I would sign _this_."

Red eyes narrowed, and Jasper glared right back. "I don't know what you mean."

Jasper clicked his tongue. "I have seen some civilizations rise, some fall, and have seen the politics when they are at their heights. This," He tapped the paper once again. "Is a sign that you had no intention of allowing us fully within the wizarding culture. I wonder… is it because you think of us as animals or do you think that we are dirty – unworthy of associating with wizards and witches."

He watched intently as the man's jaw tightened, biting back some vicious retort or curse. Voldemort's hands clenched into a white knuckled grip, and a brief crack of dark power flowed through the room like a bolt of lightning. Jasper simply raised a brow. _Prove me wrong,_ he asked silently. _Prove me wrong because if you don't, then I can't trust you._ Voldemort reached for the vampires written demands and read them over again. They still weren't outrageous. For the most, they were agreeable.

"Fine." Voldemort hissed as he signed the document. Jasper smiled.

"Good. Now, what do you want from us, exactly."

"Dumbledore's head on a silver platter." He spat, unhappy with having given in to the vampire lord.

"Must it be silver?" His question had the Dark Lord staring up at him in minor confusion. "I always enjoyed the irony of a head in a whicker basket."

Voldemort scoffed. Despite the powers that the vampires possessed, he didn't think that they stood any kind of chance against Dumbledore. Well, perhaps he would make an exception for Cole, since anyone that could go toe to toe with him deserved that respect. Now there was an idea… If the vampire lord was so confident, then let him get rid of one of the Dark Lord's obstacles. "Bring me Dumbledore's head and help in taking the magical world, and I suppose we would have an agreement."

"I find that agreeable." He had wanted to kill Dumbledore anyway, but had resigned to the idea that Tom would want that particular death for himself. Now it looked like he would get his chance. "I know just who to assign the job."

"I'm sure."

"I wish for the three guards that had attended me to stay here as an official guard for the liaison. They will, of course, maintain their own necessities."

"That won't be an issue as long as they keep away from interrupting the daily functions here."

"They won't." Jasper dismissed his worries. There was a knock on the door and both he, and Voldemort, turned.

"Enter." The door opened to admit a familiar blond man. Jasper's lips curled into a smirk. Lucius always was so much fun. "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed, Lucius." The man's name rolled of the Dark Lord's tongue in a low hiss.

"Yes, My Lord, but I felt that you would want to know of this as soon as possible."

"Very well. Speak."

"I've received word from contacts in France that a group of vampire hunters have passed through on their way here to deal with our 'vampire problem'."

"And why is this a concern?" Voldemort asked. There were already vampire hunters here at the bidding of the ministry.

"They call themselves Zodiac."

Jasper chuckled. "My, my, I wonder who sent them the personal invite."

"You know of them?" Voldemort asked. He'd only ever heard the name in passing.

That group, Zodiac, was one that had formed with the specific task for eliminating the Clan born vampire, or so Jean-Claude had said. They had sixty-three Clan vampire deaths to their names before the majority of their group was killed. The remainder was warned away from hunting the Clan vampires, lest their group become nothing more than a fairytale. He honestly didn't know that much about them besides in an overall aspect. Their names had only been mentioned in passing among the documents, and what little else he learned was by word of mouth.

"Yes. They're a group of vampire hunters who used to number thirteen until we… cut their numbers down and gave them warning on what would happen to them if they drew into confrontation with the Clans again. Their numbers are down to five now, last I heard. Taurus, the twins Gemini, Sagittarius, and Libra."

"I would assume that their names were the reason for calling the group Zodiac?"

"That would be correct."

"Are they a threat?"

"Very much so. If there were such a thing as professional vampire hunters, it would be them. Their arrival signals my early departure, I'm afraid. Others need to be warned and defenses prepared." With their past of hunting Clan born, Jasper could assume that they had some way around the vampire blood wards.

"Will the guards and liaison still be staying?"

"Yes. It is not their safety that I worry about. If you'll excuse me." Jasper stood and left the office, quickly making his way back to the rooms that had been set aside for their use.

~..~

"Luna, Neville! Pack your things, we need to go." He stopped in front of their doors before moving to his own and packing up the small trunk of clothes he'd brought before shrinking it and tucking it away. He made over to the guards and spoke quietly with them about the situation and what was expected. They seemed to understand, and he left them in their rooms. The humans would be staying, including Nymphadora, so he only had to worry about getting Neville and Luna to Azkaban without any problems popping up along the way.

"Jasper? What's going on?" Neville asked as he practically fell into the hall. Jasper cut a quick glance around to make sure that no one had heard the name and, upon seeing no one, turned back to Neville.

"I'll tell you once we get back."

"Should I be worried?"

Jasper hesitated in thought a moment before he shook his head. "Nothing to worry about when you've got someone with you. It'll be safer once we make it back to the island though. Where's Luna?"

"I told the Nightmares to go." She slipped out from her room and looked expectantly at Jasper.

"That's fine, we'll be taking my way."

"Your way?" Neville asked.

"Oh yes. Grab onto me tightly. It's kind of like apparition." They both latched on to his arms and a grin stretched his lips. "Never done this with two people before. Should be interesting."

"What?" Neville's panic was cut off at the darkness swept up around them and pulled them away.


	21. Chapter 21

**Zodiac Incursion**

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_Hatred is a feeling which leads to the extinction of values._

_~ José Ortega y Gasset_

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_Libra__:_

He entered the ministry of magic with a graceful amble, his steps falling one directly in front of the other. Soft, light brown hair framed his all too feminine face, and his lavender eyes peered at the occupants of the building with a subtle curiosity. He was tracking those that didn't belong, the ones that, no matter how they tried, did just quite fit in with the humans around them. He, personally, was indifferent to the vampire race. It was what they did, the fact that they stole lives from others, that made him hate them. It was why he would lend a hand to wipe them out.

The first he came across was a young –relatively speaking- woman who appeared to work behind the desk with the security that checked wands. He didn't have a wand, and stated as much, and was let through without any fuss. The female vampire didn't even look up as he passed and proceeded further in. His first stop was going to be the floor the Minister worked on. He wanted to find how far the vampires had dug in to the governmental body.

A secretary that greeted him when he arrived on the floor, two clerks, and one advisor were all vampires. His face held neutral though he wanted to frown. That there were so many here, so close to the Minister, didn't speak well of the situation the further in he delved. He left and went to his next target floor, the Department for the regulation and control of magical creatures. He almost stumbled at the sheer amount of vampiric energy that saturated the area. It was thick, cloying, and he felt as if he would choke on it. He'd been right in his assumptions. It was likely that they'd started their infiltration with this office as it affected them so much. He ducked back into the lift immediately, unwilling to stay any longer. When they returned for the cleanup, he would let Taurus handle that floor.

Libra progressed on, stopping at every floor that was accessible to him as a civilian, which happened to be the majority of the building, surprisingly. He'd only been stopped once, and that was when he arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. When they found out that he didn't have a wand though, he was ignored entirely. It was obvious that they didn't even have the slightest idea that the ministry had been penetrated so deeply. He didn't have high hopes for their survival, but their lives weren't his responsibility. They were aurors and should have realized the danger that hung so close.

~..~

Luna and Neville stumbled badly when they touched down on Azkaban and were abruptly released. Jasper didn't even glance back as he moved down the hall with quick steps that were just short of a jog. They both quickly gathered themselves and set off after him.

"Jean-Claude!" Jasper called into the hall. "Jean-Claude, we have a problem!"

The disgruntled blond vampire tripped out of his room, clothes wrinkled and the buttons of his shirt mismatched. His hair was mussed and a smear of, what looked like, lipstick stretched across his face. He'd clearly been… busy with something, but Jasper couldn't even begin to care.

"What?" He grumbled out until he realized who was calling him.

"I leave you alone for three days and you already turned this place into a brothel?" Jasper asked incredulously, but then shook his head and cut off Jean-Claude's retort. "Forget it. It doesn't matter. We have a problem."

"So I heard." The blond muttered.

"The Zodiac vampire hunters have shown up."

Jean-Claude blinked once, twice, cursed him (and his mother) and went back into his room, slamming the door behind him. Jasper stared at the door for only a moment in disbelief before breaking it in with a kick. He wouldn't tolerate such blatant disrespect, not from Tom, Jean-Claude, or anyone else. He stomped in, grabbed the collar of the blonde's shirt, and dragged him from the bedroom to the one that was acting as an office. Once inside he threw the other against the bookshelf and pinned him there.

"I don't fucking care if you don't believe me! You won't show me such disrespect again, or I'll rip you apart and feed you to carrion crows." He hissed. "You are _not_ irreplaceable!" He finished with a snarl and a crack of his power like a whip across his skin.

"I – I apologize My Lord. I forgot myself." He'd never seen Jasper like this. He'd always been easy going, playful even, when there were serious things to discuss. Now though, the person before him was almost unrecognizable. The bared fangs, glowing eyes, thick pulsing power that made him feel like he was suffocating beneath the weight of it… _this _was the Lord of the vampires. _This_ was who truly led them.

"It won't happen a second time." An order, and one that, if disobeyed, promised death or misery for the rest of his timeless life.

"No. No, My Lord." Jean-Claude gasped out.

Jasper released him roughly and stepped away, letting the other fall to the floor. He took a deep, calming breath and sat behind his desk with poise, letting the incident pass as if it hadn't happened. His gaze only flicked to Luna and Neville once before returning to Jean-Claude and gesturing, sharply, for him to sit. The vampire did so quickly and without hesitation. Jasper went straight to the point.

"While in a meeting with Voldemort, one of his men entered with a report that a group of vampire hunters – using the name 'Zodiac'- had entered the country from France. I want all the information you have on them, and I want all of ours that are out to be alerted. Those who don't know how, or can't defend themselves, are to return here. If they wish to maintain their positions then they will learn how to fight back or elude the hunters. Preferably the latter, I don't want to be overrun with injured because someone got it in their head to be a badass."

"I'll get right on that, My Lord. It will be done by tonight."

"See that it is." Jasper hissed and dismissed the other, still angry over incident earlier. Jean-Claude backed from the room, not taking his eyes from fierce gold ones. Jasper sighed and bowed his head when the other was gone and felt suddenly tired.

"Alright Jasper?" Neville asked.

Jasper waved his hands towards the chairs across from him. "I've been better." He mumbled. "I want Tom."

"Explaining what is happening will take your mind off your wants." Luna stated.

"Thanks." Was the dry reply, but he told them both what was happening.

"Oh… well, that doesn't sound good."

"Way to state the obvious, kiddo!" Sirius said jovially as he popped into the room.

"Hello, Sirius." Jasper greeted.

"Hi, Harry."

"Jasper." He corrected.

"Hi, Jasper."

Despite his mood, Jasper smiled. "Was there something you needed?"

Sirius set a glass and a bottle in front of him. "I don't know, exactly, what's all happening," He started in a moment of seriousness. "But I do know that you're having a rough go of it. This always helps me." He nodded at the bottle.

Jasper's lips pulled up just barely. "I seem to recall that you mentioned strange dreams and not letting you drink again not too long ago."

Sirius gave a playful huff and poured his godson a drink. "Try doing something else for a bit. Take your mind off of things for a while."

"Thanks Sirius. I'm glad that you decided to come."

~..~

Voldemort worked methodically, something he hadn't done since his very first creation of a horcrux – his diary. The others were safe, he knew. Their protections were completely intact and they resonated, just barely, when he performed a special scrying ritual. Even if they weren't, he didn't presently have the ability to retrieve them, and there wasn't any one he trusted to handle such precious objects. So, for now, they had to stay in place, and hopefully that old fool would be dead before he stumbled across another. In that line of thought… perhaps he should contact the Lord Anguis and have the vampire's assassin bring Albus in alive. It would be foolish to pass up such a chance as discovering how Dumbledore found out about the horcuxes existence in the first place.

"You should be honored." He stated offhandedly to his captive, who was bound and silence. "As worthless as you are in life, your death will mean something."

It would be a difficult process. His soul had already been split so far with all the other horcruxes that it might actually take more than one death to completely fracture off a bit of his soul enough to separate it from his body. If it did, he was going to have to spend the next few days in a near coma from all of the magic he was going to be using. The strain on his body was going to be hell as well. It was days like this that he almost (_almost)_ regretted using such magic to secure his immortality.

Voldemort placed the item that was to be his new soul container on the small table next to him. It was such a shame that horcruxes had to be kept so far away from the original soul. He was going to miss wearing the silver snake bracelet that Jasper had gifted him with. He turned back to the captive and raised his wand.

~..~

"Do you think it's true?"

Hermione sighed, marked her page, and turned to Ron. "Do I think what is true?"

"That Harry is dead?" He clarified.

She pulled her lips into a thin line, determined not to lash out at Ron and throw the book in her hands. He was the first one to give up on Harry, and now he just wouldn't shut up him. "Well, do _you_ think he's dead?"

"I dunno. He always seemed… kinda untouchable when it came to death, ya know? Devil's luck. Just seems weird that he went quietly. No big battle or anything."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah." It did seem weird that there wasn't anything more to Harry's death. After all, he had been _Harry Potter_.

"So do you think he's dead?" He asked again.

"No." She answered after some hesitation. "I don't really think he's dead."

"Do you think he'll come back? To Hogwarts I mean."

Something like a wistful smile came over her face. "Hogwarts always was his home. He'll come back."

"I've still got the map… maybe we could watch for him every so often?"

He looked so hopeful that she didn't dare tell him that it was likely, not only a futile effort, but an effort that would probably result in more hurt all around. Ron had said it best last year: the Harry they knew was gone. Even so, she didn't want to crush him emotionally.

"Sure." She murmured. He smiled at her and walked off. He didn't see the sad look she gave him when he was gone.

~..~

_Taurus:_

He was a military man. Always had been, just like his father, and father's father, and so on all the way back as far as he cared to find. It was in the blood. War, fighting, death. He was damn good at what he did, and that hadn't changed when it was vampires he killed instead of people. There was something much more thrilling in killing freaks than humans. Something that made his heart race, his blood sing, and his mind quicken. The ultimate high.

He kicked in the door to an old abandoned house; guns drawn and already firing at the beasts that resided within. He found himself a little nest of vampires. They shrieked as blessed rounds tore through their bodies. One lunged at him, and he laughed as the lower jaw was completely ripped away by the bullets. The smart ones tried to flee then, turning back into the darkness that the house provided, hoping to find a place where he would pass them by and they could ambush him.

He watched them go, dropping the clips out of the guns he held and then sliding another in their places. It was such a joy when they tried to hide. It made the game that much more fun when they finally realized that there was something bigger and badder than they were. A manic smile stole over his face, and he charged in, shots firing off into the darkness and hitting targets that he couldn't see but knew were there. He burned down the house when he was done.

He was a military man. He was good at killing people, and even better at killing monsters.

~..~

"My Lord."

"Jean-Claude." Jasper said in greeting. "You have something to report?"

"A small group of vampires were exterminated last night."

A small frown crossed Jasper's features. "They have been killed frequently of late, especially since our takeover of the island."

"The method is a little unorthodox for wizards."

Jasper pushed the map he was looking over away from him and set down the quill he was working with. "How so?"

"Bullets, blessed ones, were found by several of our investigative teams. We've been keeping a watch on vampire deaths since you informed us of the Zodiac group possibly coming here. Despite the lack of bodies due to a fire, we suspect that the deaths lay at the hands of one of the group's members, Taurus."

"Tell me about him."

"He's a third generation vampire hunter with a military background. At the time of most of the group's execution, he was but a child. His father was one of those who had died, and he took up the name in the man's stead. Our information indicates that he prefers close, but not hand-to-hand, combat, favoring two handguns. The guns and bullets, both, are blessed. It's noted that he often charges recklessly into ill-favored situations with the odds against him. It is suspected that he possesses some ability to sense the magic that vampires are born of."

"That doesn't sound good." Jasper stated. "That means it won't be hard for him to locate anyone we send after him."

Jean-Claude nodded but said nothing more as Jasper leaned back in his chair. This was the first he'd heard of the Zodiac members having abilities that stretched beyond the 'normal' human range. He should have suspected it, of course, with all the deaths at their hands, but it wasn't entirely unheard of for a single, normal man to have fifteen vampire kills to his name before he was executed.

"Do the others have any abilities?"

"Not that we can say with any assurance."

"Fuck."

Jean-Claude felt that that was quite an accurate way to put the predicament. Jasper carded a hand through his hair, sweeping it forward and then back over his shoulders before turning to stare at the wall in thought. There had to be something they could do. Being a purely reactive force wasn't good for killing one's enemies. Nor did it do anything to prolong life. Those who were only on the defensive with no offensive moves usually died, quickly in most cases. No, he needed some way to kill those five before they could do damage to the Clans.

"They're going to be coming here at some point. Strengthen the defenses, increase rounds, do whatever is needed to heighten the security. _I don't want them on this island._"

~..~

Voldemort woke slowly, into stages of wakefulness. It was an unusual occurrence as there was, normally, only moments between sleep and a full wake. A necessary ability when one was a Dark Lord – or a dark wizard in general. He sat up from beneath his soft sheets and looked about his bedroom. He only had the vaguest memory of stumbling in here and collapsing on his bed some… he cast a tempus… nearly two days ago – thirty-nine hours. His magic was fully recovered from splitting his soul again, but his body absolutely _ached._

He stood slowly, mindful of the pain, and slowly made way to the shower. Hopefully the hot water would release some of the tension in his body. A few pain relievers wouldn't be amiss either. He easily spent a half hour beneath the water, just letting it pour over his body before deciding that he'd wasted enough time already and there were things to be done today. He stepped from the bathroom, quickly dressed, and went to grab his newest horcrux when something stopped him. A small slip of paper, ragged at the edges as if torn, lay across the serpent bracelet.

'_He's not who you think he is.'_

The writing wasn't loopy, harsh, or even holding the sometimes-jagged edges. It almost looked like a human hand hadn't written it. He picked it up and turned it over. There wasn't anything on the back, just that single sentence. He knew he hadn't left it there, and that meant that someone else had been in his rooms. An impossibility he had been sure of, except in the case of Jasper. He frowned at the paper and it's obvious message. If Jasper wasn't who he thought he was, then who was he? A wordless, wandless incendio burnt away the scrap until it was nothing but ash. The message was something to keep in mind for the future. He wasn't such a fool to disregard a warning.

~..~

Severus stiffened as he felt the familiar call wash over him. It wasn't painful, like the mark on his arm, but he almost wished it were. Pain was something he could deal with, dealt with throughout his whole life. It was something he could block from his mind and throw to the side so he could continue on. This though, this was vastly different. Not pleasure, but closer to an enticement, a lure specifically for him. He didn't even try to fight it this time around. His new master was calling him, and he had no other choice but to obey. He followed the notes, the soft hum that echoed through his head. The song that only he could hear brought him to a familiar spot, and he looked up to find the vampire he expected lounging in the bows of a tree once more.

"Severus, Severus, you've been a naughty boy – blocking me from some of your thoughts." He clicked his tongue at the man, chiding him. "You're supposed to be useful." Jasper said. "Don't make me doubt the level of usefulness, lest I replace you with a more willing player."

The vampire rolled from the branch and landed softly on the wet earth. Something between a pleased and a surprised smile twisted Jasper's lips, and Severus couldn't help but feel wary at the look. Smiles never meant anything good. Voldemort only smiled when someone was –or was going to be- tortured, and Dumbledore… well, he was infinitely more cruel in his own way. Emotional pain took far longer to heal than the physical scars that the Dark Lord left behind.

"I don't know whether to be pleased or angry that you've managed to hide a part of your mind from me. Honestly, if I hadn't been searching, I wouldn't have noticed anything. I must commend you on your skill. To be able to defy a slave bond…" His look turned musing, but he shook his head and banished his thoughts. "It doesn't matter though. I shall have to fix it. You understand, I'm sure."

Jasper stepped up, grasping Snape's head firmly in his hands so he couldn't look away, and dove into his mind. This close together, there wasn't any way that Severus' mental shields could keep him out. _Show me_, his mind whispered against Severus'. _Show me the things you've hidden._ And then there were flashes of memory, tiny bits of information that, alone, would mean nothing.

The old man sitting at his desk, pondering over the ring Severus had found him with upon a sudden return to the school. Dumbledore asking about Slughorn, if there was any information on the man's whereabouts. Talk of a hidden area, a possible artifact that was much like the ring, about help that may- or may not be- necessary. Albus with a letter in hand as he made way to the owlery with quiet, hidden steps, looking as if he wanted to be unseen and Snape's own suspicions of what the other had done, now and before. Jasper pulled away suddenly.

"So, he knows there are more, has found the… supposed location of one, but what of Slughorn? What part did that fool play in this? That letter as well… one of mine shall have to take-" Jasper's softly spoken words were abruptly cut off as he cried out in pain. Snape only had time to see the shaft of an arrow in the vampire's shoulder as he was pulled away into the darkness and back to his labs in the dungeons.

Jasper pushed him away and reached for the arrow in his back, pulling it none to gently from his flesh. His legs gave, and he was on his knees, panting heavily. There was something on the arrow. His arms fell limp at his sides, and gray swam for a moment in his vision. A sound like metal scraping filled his ears and muffled out all other sound. He clenched his jaw as he felt his body warm to temperatures far too high for a living person. Little flames danced over his skin, and Jasper tried to wrap his arms tightly around himself, hoping to keep the fire in a controlled burn. The flames flared and the strange numbing sensation that had been sweeping over his body was suddenly gone. He gave a relieved sigh. That was the first time he'd ever had his Ignis heritage react to poison, and he couldn't have been more grateful.

He looked at the arrow he had let drop to the floor. It was white, bone white, with a blue tip and deep blue feathers at the end. There should have been blood on it from his wound, but there wasn't. It was pristine. He picked it up cautiously with just barely the tips of his fingers. It made his hand tingle. There was some magic around it, on it, in it. He wasn't entirely sure. There was one thing he was sure of though, and that was that he didn't like it, at all. He was also sure that it wasn't a centaur arrow either, and that made him wonder at who it had been shooting at him.

He reached back and touched gently. The wound was still there, open and torn around the edges from his pulling the arrow out so roughly. Apparently his healing abilities meant nothing for whatever else had been on the arrow. It would have to heal naturally. Jasper snorted softly. How long had it been since he had to let a wound heal on it's own?

"Bandages." He told Severus who had yet to move from the room. Snape nodded and was quickly gone. He returned a few moments later with gauze, tape, and an ointment that Jasper didn't know the name for. The vampire ripped away his shirt. He dipped fingers into the ointment, applied it, and wrapped it. After a few moments of stretching, he was satisfied at a job well done. "I don't expect to have to come back here, Severus Snape, and if I do, I can assure you of my displeasure."

Jasper said meaningfully as he gathered his shirt and stood from the floor. He could, and would, make Voldemort look like an amateur when it came to torture if pushed too far. Originally he'd come to dig into Snape's hidden thoughts and strengthen the bond so that Snape would be unable to keep him out. Now, however, he needed to return. This incident changed his plans.

"I will see you at a later time, Severus Snape." Jasper hissed quietly and disappeared from the room.

~..~

_Gemini:_

"Azkaban is where they are."

"Then Azkaban is where we'll go."

The first, a woman with deep burgundy hair, pouted at her sister, her twin though her opposite. She folded her legs, pulling the white dress she wore beneath her. "And how shall we get there, sister dear?"

The second didn't answer for a time, instead tugging at her black clothes and flipping fiery red hair over her shoulder. She tapped a finger to her painted lips, and they slowly curled into a Cheshire smile. "These faux immortals are fools, thinking that their power will protect them always, but Libra has gifted us with knowledge. We shall get there by the way the wizards do, and we shall do it without their knowing."

"So confident, Inimeg." The first said, turning away and folding her arms. It was a childish gesture, but she had always been the childish one out of the two of them.

"So fickle, Gemini." She retorted. "Now, come along. We have work to do."

Gemini gave another pout, but she stood quickly enough to follow. "When will we get there?"

Inimeg sighed softly. She loved her sister dearly, but there were times were she wished that she'd been an only child, born beneath a different name, a different constellation. Aquarius, maybe. "We shall leave tomorrow. It will take a day and a half."

"And what shall we do when we get there?"

"Kill."

"Whom will we kill?"

"All of them." Inimeg answered.

"The vampires?"

"Yes."

"And their humans?"

"Every last one, for they are no longer human when they surrender to the demons vampires are."

"So violent." Gemini laughed.

"So innocent." Inimeg returned.

"Liar."

Inimeg smiled and allowed a deep, throaty chuckle.

~..~

Voldemort flowed among his Death Eaters. Buildings burned to the ground around him. Women screamed. Children cried. Both quickly joined the men in dying. He flicked his wand, ending more lives as he passed them by. It had been some time since he'd gone on a raid personally, and he hadn't realized how much he had missed the absolute chaos that followed them. There was a crack of apparition, and Voldemort turned towards the interloper. An auror had arrived. The poor fool. He was struck down almost as soon as he had realized what was happening around him. He never stood a chance.

"Finish up." The command wasn't loud, but each Death Eater acknowledged the order, and they swept even faster through the village, a torrent of blood and violence. Eventually the cries died down, the manic laughter ended, and all that was left was the crackle of the fires that were still spreading out, reaching like fingers into the fields to ravage the land..

Him and his only left when the small town was nothing but rubble and bodies. Reinforcement aurors were too late to save anyone, and a message had been left for that old fool Dumbledore. Not in words, of course, for that would be too obvious, but in crimson rivers and still warm corpses.

~..~

Dumbledore stared at what little remained. The aurors had cleared out a hour ago, closing off the area to muggles until a cleanup crew could be sent out. He was alone as he walked down the street, what had once been the main road that cut through the town. What had once been stores and homes were gone, and he was left to look out sadly upon the wreckage. This was the first, but not the only, town he would visit before the sun rose. Five others were just like it. All left as little more than piles of debris and empty shells that used to be people.

He knew that this night was only the first strike, and it was surprisingly calculated compared to previous years when Voldemort was alive. Many of the deaths had been muggles, that much was true, but even more was the death of so many muggles with magical children who were away at school. None of them would be able to return for Christmas in less than a month. None of them would ever see their parents or non-magical siblings ever again.

He should have taken more precautions for the families of the students, but he hadn't expected Voldemort to slay them while sparing the lives of the so-called 'mudbloods'. It had never been like that before. Death had been indiscriminant for Voldemort and his followers. They slaughtered without thought, murdering even the all wizard and witch families if they stood against them. Now though… It appeared as if he'd been outdone once again, and at this rate, he would never catch-up.

Somewhere the Dark Lord was laughing.

~..~

"Have you figured it out?" Jasper asked as he peered down at the stone table where the arrow lay. Bottle and vials full of different colored liquids scattered the room along with different tools. The room was a lot different than he had remembered it to be. He'd come here after fearing for other vampires' safety. If just touching the arrow made his skin crawl, he was worried about the affects it would have on others.

"It is an astounding construct."

"That doesn't tell me much, Mr. Ollivander."

The old wand crafter gave something akin to a smile and reached for another bottle of fluid and a small tool. He tipped the bottle, allowing a drop to fall, and then gently began scraping. "It is wood. A kind I've never seen or heard of. There are absorption qualities, but that is specific to vampires and their magic. The feathers don't belong to a bird either. The truly fascinating thing, though, is the poison."

He sounded so cheerful about the poison itself that Jasper couldn't help but give him a dirt look. "No need to sound so happy, I only almost died." He muttered.

"Oh no, that's the most interesting thing. It wouldn't have killed you."

"Excuse me?"

"It's toxic, but it is mostly paralytic in nature. It attacks the brain and nervous system. It would easily kill a human, as the toxin would also stop the heart and lungs, but if –as I suspect- this was made with vampires in mind, they would live."

"Because vampires don't need to breathe, and their hearts don't beat."

"Correct."

"If I was any other vampire…" He let the question trail off.

"You likely wouldn't have made it from wherever you had been when you were struck. This was meant to be fast acting, almost instantaneous. The wood draws away vampire magic, stopping healing, preventing natural abilities from fighting the poison. There would have been nothing you could have done, and you would have been unconscious within seconds. The sheer power that you hold simply overwhelmed its qualities. I have noticed, however, that it did stop your healing abilities." Ollivander nodded to the bandaged shoulder.

"Who would be stupid enough, though, to try to take a vampire alive?"

"I think that you may already have an answer to that, My Lord."

Jasper nodded, looking away in thought. The only new players to the game, who would attempt to try something like this, were the vampire hunters. That, thankfully, let him know the name of his likely assailant. Sagittarius, the archer, would be the one to use a bow. Unfortunately, that didn't help matters at all. He didn't know whether Sagittarius had been male or female, what they looked like, what they smelled like, or even the vaguest sense of what their magic felt like. Whoever they had been, they'd been completely hidden from his various senses. He turned back to Ollivander.

"Do you know of anything that would hide someone completely from a vampire's senses?"

The old man stopped his continued examination of the arrow. "There were old charms some time ago that could make one invisible to a vampire, but they didn't work for wizards because of their innate magic."

"And if they weren't wizards?" He asked softly.

"Then they would work."

"So these hunters have no magic." He mused aloud.

"That may not be entirely accurate." Ollivander said.

"How so?"

"A wizard or witch's magical core is a strange thing. The number of abilities that can be accomplished is far vaster than any other creature. Charms, transfiguration, blood magic, necromancy, and elemental ability… the numbers of magic able to be performed by a wizard or witch kills –for lack of a better word- the magic that the charm produces."

"I never was aware of that."

"Not many are." Ollivander shook his head. "Either way, though, your attacker could very well be magical. In fact, that is highly likely. Non-magicals don't last long in the hunting business."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."

"Happy to help. Do come by and visit some time." Ollivander said. "And bring your wands with you. I'm curious as to how your powers affected the wand cores."

"Sure."

~..~

Jasper left to Voldemort's manor after his stop at Ollivander's, only to find the place alive with Death Eaters all in the throws of celebration. Most were only mildly inebriated, mingling in groups and talking loudly. There were a few, though, enjoying themselves in the few curtained areas, obviously taking pleasure in… entertaining one another. He only paid them passing notice, more interested in what was the cause for festivities and how they chose to celebrate. He'd probably find out once he found Tom, but the man was absent from the hall.

He wasn't hard to find though, as he was in his favorite sitting room, lounging in a chair and enjoying a glass of wine. Jasper closed the door behind him and took the chair right next to Tom's and sat in it silently. The comfortable quiet hung in the room for a while, long enough for Voldemort to drink two glasses leisurely. Jasper looked over at the other, admiring the features that were softened in the firelight and the crimson eyes that were darkened to the color of good red wine.

"Did you tire of celebrating with your followers?" Jasper finally asked, curious as to why Voldemort wasn't enjoying himself with the rest. Tom had never been one for parties, but he was always visible at them, moving through the crowds though not always talking to someone.

Those eyes looked over to him with an indescribable look, and a sudden feeling of unease constricted Jasper chest. There was a question there; one Voldemort wouldn't ask and one Jasper wasn't sure that he wanted to hear. Voldemort turned away and set his glass down on the small, shared table between them. Words died in Jasper's throat, hundreds of ways to ask 'are you alright' or 'what's wrong'. He held his silence though, knowing, somehow, that he shouldn't be the first to speak right now – as if anything he said would shatter whatever he and Tom had.

"The Lord Anguis is an interesting personage." Jasper let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding at the sentence.

"He is that." The vampire agreed.

"What happened to you?" Voldemort's question had Jasper looking at him with bewilderment.

"What?"

"Your shoulder."

Jasper touched the wrappings. "I was shot in the forest. It's nothing to worry about."

Voldemort was suddenly in front of him, pulling at the robe that Jasper had grabbed to cover his torso. Stunned, the vampire just allowed the action, turning when Tom pushed him around to get a better view as he pulled away the wrappings. He shivered when fingers moved gently around the wound.

"What did this?" He asked. Voldemort had never known anything short of severe trauma and energy drain to keep an injury from healing.

"An arrow."

"An arrow alone wouldn't keep you from healing this."

"It was an unusual arrow." Voldemort gave him a look and he continued on. "There was some sort of poison on it. The wood it was crafted from… it drained energy."

"Interesting."

Jasper gave a near silent sigh. "I suppose it would be… if I hadn't gotten hit with it first." He muttered.

"Come, I have some salve in my room for wounds that resist healing."

Voldemort left without turning around, and Jasper followed pacifically with a relaxed smile on his lips. Whatever it was that had worried Tom earlier would pass, just as these things always did. Even still, he looked at Tom's tense shoulders, that nervous fluttering in his chest hadn't completely dissipated. He ignored it, pushed it down to the depths of his conscience, and focused on the moment. It didn't do to dwell on things better forgotten or unchangeable.

He accepted, though, that that attitude was likely to come back and bite him in the ass.

~..~

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers and, of course, my beta. I actually forgot this part the last chapter since I'd uploaded it to the site the same day ch19 was posted.

_ClaMiAl: I've always taken the stand that they could always affect the 'taste' of their magic just by practicing more of this or less of that. That's the way I account for Voldemort not noticing. Don't worry though, he'll be finding out that Jasper is Anguis really soon. If not the next chapter, then the one right after. The two of them are due for a few personal problems._

Reeri: You've no idea how tempted I was to put a crack part in with sparkly vampires just because of "Twilight". I have to give you an extra thanks for saying that I made vampires work without… 'getting stupid about it', I suppose.

_Mabidiso: I likely won't just come out and give the reason for Luna and Neville drinking from Jasper, so let's both chalk it up to they're the new Lord and Lady without all that time-travel, and they need to get stronger, quicker._

_Mirky: The Cottage was a 'super Sirius secret'. He told no one – especially not Remus, and with him being on the run (with Remus) he couldn't go there, and stay there. Afterwards, he wanted to be able to spend time with Harry which is why he didn't just take off. Later, after he found out Dumbledore's plans, he was stuck in Grimmauld under Dumbledore's watch. It pretty much ended up as a lack of opportunity for escape. As for the letter (and all the other stuff set up) that was all prudent planning when he was on the move._


	22. Chapter 22

_Note: Slash scene present and isolated by a series of ' * '_

_**Bloodlust and Battle**_

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._  
It's not enough, you hunger for more  
You're one twisted little fuck  
And now you wanna get psycho with me_

_~ Disturbed "Meaning of Life"_

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.

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Jasper was perusing through the vast number of books that were within Tom's library. It wasn't any surprise that the majority of them were Dark inclined, and it wasn't anymore a surprise that they were either, rare, banned, considered destroyed, or so illegal that they were a death sentence to own. Jasper had only managed to save precious few books in his travels through time, and those were by luck alone. Even so, every single one was the last of its kind in the present time, and he took great pride in that. He pulled down a book and flipped through the pages before placing it back. He was looking for something that he honestly didn't expect to find.

"_The Rights of Altair"_ held, purportedly, the secrets to demons and their magic. Jasper was hoping to find a way able to use his natural demon energy in beneficial ways. All without dying of course. The book itself, however, was only rumor as well. He'd only heard the softest of whispers about it and had only discovered the title from an old tome written by a Necromancer who also summoned demons upon occasion. The first was a dangerous art in and of itself, and the second was virtual suicide. Demon summoning was an all or nothing business. The slightest mistake and the practitioner was often tortured and then eaten – alive. Not a pleasant experience, he was sure.

Voldemort's library was well organized. First by Art _(Dark Arts, Light Arts, Blood Magic), _then by Rank _(level of power necessary),_ and finally by Style _(Charms, Transfiguration, Potions)._ It took understanding those bases, though, to properly navigate through the shelves because, otherwise, there was no reason as to how they were placed. Had he been the average wizard, Jasper would have been lost. He slipped between the various shelves, occasionally pausing to get a better look at one book or another before moving on again.

It took three hours to examine all of the titles, and though he hadn't found_ "The Rights of Altair"_, he didn't walk out empty handed. The book he found had really been more of a journal, no title and filled with scribbling that didn't make sense unless you knew their meanings beforehand. Notes had been shoved into the book, clearly one had been trying to break the 'code' the book had apparently been written in. Jasper ignored those and quickly skimmed several pages. It was Olde Magic, rituals that used the Lay Lines. He moved back to the front of the book and found the name of the author.

"Gellert. Now why does that name sound so familiar?" He asked softly and then shrugged. He'd always had a horrible memory when it came to names.

It didn't matter who the creator was at any rate. He had no doubt that this book could be infinitely useful, if not directly by the rituals listed then indirectly for the new perspective on tapping the Lines. Creating rituals from scratch took time, skill, and instinct. Unfortunately, he was low on the 'time' factor, and had since been unable to indulge in one of his favored hobbies. So he had to settle for reading about, and using, other's rituals.

~..~

Libra circled the room slowly, very much like a shark just before it stuck. He watched his prey keenly. She was awake, he knew, and she was waiting for him to make the first move – wanting to know what his goal was. He stepped up in front of her, just an arms reach away, without fear. She was chained after all, and he had nothing to fear with the special bindings used.

"Wake up, vampire."

Her eyes snapped open, pinning him with a cold onyx glare. "I'll kill you once I'm free." She hissed.

"If you were to go free, I would expect you to try." He mocked her. "But as you're not leaving here alive, I have no worries. Now, I need you to answer some questions of mine, vampire, and if you don't cooperate, this will become decidedly unpleasant." She spit at him. He wiped it away with a handkerchief. "I suppose that means you refuse to do this easily."

Libra sighed and pulled out a small pendant. It looked old, tarnished, and she couldn't make out the design. It swung on its bright silver chain in front of her face, and she got the distinct feeling that she wasn't going to enjoy this.

"I don't expect you to know what this is, so I shall tell you. It's a very special, very rare charm, made by a tribe now long extinct. It kills vampiric flesh. Deadens it. It's a very unique experience to watch, but I don't expect you to appreciate the beauty of such piece." He brought it closer, and she flinched away. "Just let me know when you're ready to talk, hmm?"

It touched her, and she _screamed._

~..~

A man screamed, and Jasper could hear Bellatrix's cackles even over all the other ambient sounds. He'd followed Tom on a raid, honestly curious as to what happened on them. He was beginning to understand that – for the most part- it was all pointless mindless torture and murder. Not that it bothered him any. He had since grown numb to deaths in such a fashion, but he did find it inexplicably boring. It was the same thing for an entire hour. Burn a house, watch the people flee, once they get far enough to hope for escape, dash those same hopes with a curse, torture them a little, and then kill them. It sounded like a long process. Realistically it only took a few moments. Now it just seemed like he and Tom were loitering around, watching the death eaters, and waiting for the Aurors or the Order of the Phoenix to show up just to taunt them.

"Megalomaniacs and their need to posture." Jasper sighed. Accepting that Tom was a Dark Lord was easy, and it was even easier to accept that his (_lover?)_ killed people and plotted world domination as a hobby. One thing he would never understand though, was the need mock and criticize _before_ killing the enemy. Really, you think Voldemort would have learned a lesson back when he'd been Harry Potter.

"Are you so bored, Jasper?" Voldemort asked, not turning to him but keeping his eyes on his minions as they razed the town.

"It just seems a little repetitive." He offered.

"In some instances." Voldemort agreed after a moment. "Would you like something different?" And there was a glint in the Dark Lord's eyes that sent a pleasing shiver down Jasper spine.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Invoking a little death magic."

Jasper felt the monster side of him tremble in anticipation. Death magic felt even better than Tom's Dark in the right instances. He gave a slow nod, his eyes alighting with magic as he turned to face the destruction as he followed Tom into the reigning chaos. The Death Eaters slipped from their path, clearing the way as they moved together. A body fell in front of them; throat slashed open and blood splashed up on their robes. Neither stopped. They came to the center of the town. A spot that had once been marked by the stores that lined both sides of the street.

Voldemort swirled his wand through the air, twisting it and lighting delicate designs. Jasper quickly joined him. It could have been a minute or an hour before something answered the call they'd sent. Screams that sounded so very far away, like the faintest of echoes, started. All other sound seemed to halt for a moment; the Death Eater's pausing in their torment to turn towards the pair, and the dying halting their pitiful moans as if to hide from the power they felt thrumming through the air. Bellatrix's manic laughter broke the silence and whatever else had held the magic back. It crashed through the town, making the muggles scream as their bodies bowed back in pain. The other Death Eaters joined Bellatrix in her laughter, their spells coming easier as a new vigor swept through them.

Jasper closed his eyes and fell into the void of power, instantly intoxicated by it. At a glance, he could tell that Voldemort wasn't fairing much better than him. Every death brought about some death magic, but numerous ones… that was something different. The killing of almost all of the people who resided in this town could raise an incredible amount of magic, and for a Dark Lord and a creature of the dark as Tom and he were; it was even more then words could account. Jasper tossed his head back as the death magic dug into him, igniting his vampire magic and drawing up his bloodlust. Usually bloodlust hurt. It was a painful, gut wrenching sensation that was enough to make him scream, but with the other magic pulsing in him, it twisted it into something else entirely.

A hand pulling harshly at his hair drew him back to reality and the scarlet eyes staring at him. Jasper didn't think twice about fisting his hands into the fabric of Tom's robe and devouring his mouth. He pulled him close, folding himself against the Dark Lord so much that no one could tell where one began and the other ended. Voldemort only pulled back long enough to cast his mark in the sky, and then disapparated them both away.

When they landed Jasper shredded the robes from the body before him with barely enough mind to be careful of the skin underneath. He pressed himself against Tom, knocking both of them back onto the bed as he furiously began attacking neck and collarbone, drawing a hiss from Tom. Jasper moved lower, tracing wet lines with his tongue and drawing fangs over sensitive skin. He caressed what he couldn't taste with his hands, eager to hear more of those erotic hisses from his lover. He lapped at the taut stomach, swirling around the navel and quickly dipped in. Tom hissed again, his whole body tensing at the sensation. Jasper gave a fanged smirk as his claws cut through Tom's pants with ease, and he peeled them away so that he could nuzzle a bare thigh. He looked up with pleading gold eyes that burned with hunger.

"Can I feed, dear Tom?" His question was whisper soft, and he nibbled gently on the inner thigh. "Can I feed before I have you?"

Tom's head rolled up to look at him, and Jasper realized that there was nothing of the Dark Lord Voldemort in the gaze. This was just Tom, like back in their school days. An eager body, willing to give and take and that touch of evil that lurked beneath the surface. Jasper leaned up that inch or so to lick up the underside of the erection in front of him. Tom hissed a curse and pressed his body back into the mattress, one hand curling in the silk sheet under him.

"_Please, dear Tom."_ The sibilant words seemed to break whatever resolve the other held.

"Yessss." The answer was just this side of parseltongue.

Jasper smiled then, sliding back down to get a better angle. He paused only a moment before biting down. Tom cried out, and it was only the vampire's strong hold that held him to the bed. Jasper grinned against the warm skin and reached up to stroke needy flesh. He'd never get tired of hearing Tom like this, as close to begging, as the Dark Lord would ever be. As close to human as he would ever be again. Merlin it was just so… Jasper moaned against the skin as he drank him down, drank him in. Tasting him, hearing him, feeling that heartbeat…

Tom's breath dragged out in gasping pants, the one hand twisting brutally within the sheet and the other dropping to find place in Jasper's dark hair. Incoherent serpentine words slipped forth, making Jasper shudder and mournfully pull away before this ended all to soon. Too much blood loss would act as a detriment to his plan for the night.

He slid back up that lithe body drawing Tom into another heated kiss as his hand slid into the bedside table for a bottle of oil. Tom drew him down, pressing their bodies together tightly as he thrust his hips and drew a low moan from Jasper, who almost dropped the small bottle. He felt Tom's magic unfurl and envelop him, and he gave Tom wide eyes. What was he doing? The magic reached into him, digging deeply and caressing the core of his magic. Jasper suddenly collapsed with weak arms. Tom rolled them so that he was on top, straddling the vampire's body. Bright blue eyes – eyes Jasper hadn't seen in, what seemed like, forever stared down at him.

"Tom?" He questioned, reaching up and touched his cheek. He opened his mouth to speak again, and Tom cut him off, eagerly diving into the warmth of Jasper's mouth once more.

"_Shut up and get on with it."_ He hissed, while pulling away only for a moment. He wanted to give Jasper this, while it was fully_ him_ on the surface without any of the madness that Voldemort had fallen into. It was like he was complete again, that there weren't pieces missing and leaving gaping holes behind. This would probably be the last time that he would be so whole – the circumstances of this night were never likely to repeat – and he was going to do what he could to show his affection.

Jasper started, enjoying the way Tom squirmed above him with each thrust of a dexterous finger, then two, then three, loving the way dark hair fell into glazed eyes and the way he fought to keep in those throaty, needful sounds. The fine tremble that ran through Tom's body when he pulled away his hand to grip his hip stirred something in him. Jasper lifted the other, but was completely unprepared for Tom to draw up and drop sharply, impaling himself and drawing a sharp sound from Jasper.

Tom rode the body under him, moving in just _that_ way that made Jasper gasp and buck. His thin hands ran over Jasper's chest, touching all those spots that made the vampire writhe and deliver choked pleas. Tom looked down into those bright golden eyes and wished, suddenly, that he was able to say those words he'd often heard couples say. He really _did_ love Jasper, but when this was all over, those feelings would be gone and he'd be incapable of them once more. To say them now, and never be able to mean them again, would probably be the cruelest thing he could ever do.

Jasper writhed on the sheets, all the control he'd started with stripped away, his hand drifting over the form above him, unable to do anything more with the pleasure that was winding through him. And then he was there, thrusting up, feeling wet heat spread across his chest as Tom joined him, magic once more crashing around the both of them, and him crying out Tom's name. Tom collapsed to his side, with just enough strength to pull away and cast a quick cleaning charm for the both of them. Slowly he rolled back to face Jasper, placing a hand to a pale cheek.

'_You'll never know just how sorry I am that I did this to myself.'_ He lamented silently.

~..~

Albus glared down at the reports on his desk as if the papers were the things responsible for the destruction. His supposed spy sat across from him quietly and had yet to speak a word since entering. He looked up at Severus, and he could almost see the flinch that brought. He grabbed up the reports and threw them in front of Snape, uncaring at the way they spread across the floor.

"And you knew _nothing_?" Dumbledore spat the question. "I'm beginning to think that you've rejoined that madman and I should hand you over to the authorities."

"I haven't been called in a week." Severus looked at the furious Headmaster with a steady, but cautious, gaze. He'd seen Albus angry before, but that had been only once and in passing. He could actually consider this worse than the Dark Lord. With Voldemort you always knew what awaited a failure, and while crutiatus was painful, it was predictable. Dumbledore though… sometimes there were worse things hidden within the so-called Light magic than in the Dark and Albus knew every one of them. He battled down the urge to flee.

"You haven't been called." He scoffed. "Or is it that you asked not to be called? You may think me a fool, Severus, but even I am not so blind. If you cannot be trusted to leave and gather information, then you cannot be trusted to leave. You are now bound to the castle and are not permitted to pass through the wards." Albus paused a moment, ready to say something more, and then he shook his head. "Get out."

Snape left Dumbledore to his frustration. The elder man rested his head in the palm of his hand, taking deep breaths to help calm his anger. It wasn't working. Violently, he swept his arm across his desk, throwing things to the floor. It was all becoming so useless. His spy was worthless, and now he was left without any insight into Voldemort's mind because Severus was a traitor to his cause. Damn him. Damn them. The actions available to him were slowly falling away, and eventually he was aware that he would be left with no options. He needed something, anything, to help him get a leg up on his enemy.

~..~

"Are you ready to talk?" The vampire whimpered and tried to move away. Libra made a shushing sound and patted her head gently. "Tell me, what is the name of your Lord and where can I find him?"

She shook her head, and Libra frowned. This one must have been older than he had thought to still deny him after this long, but she was still weak from hunger and pain. She wouldn't last much longer at all, and he had quite a bit of time to spare. He continued on with patience, working methodically. She didn't even have the energy to scream anymore.

"Stop! Please stop!" She cried, red tinted tears slipping over her pale cheeks.

Libra stepped back. "Tell me the name of your Lord."

"He is the Lord Anguis."

"His first name you twit." Libra hissed. The titled names, such as Anguis, were useless.

"I've heard others call him Jasper. He is always around the wizard's Dark Lord too. That's it! That's all I know!"

"Alright then." He smiled at her, and she flinched. He pulled out a knife, one with a blade that was easily the length of his hand. "Don't worry. It won't hurt much longer."

He shoved the blade up from beneath her ribs, slicing through the skin and easily cutting apart the heart. Libra backed away when he was sure that the job was done. He sneered down at his dirty hand, flicking it and spattering the floor with more blood. He would never understand how cutting the heart from a vampire killed it, as the creatures didn't use the heart after they 'died', but he wasn't going to complain over an easy target.

"Disgusting." He muttered, and finished cleaning his hands and knife on the dead vampire's clothes. At least, now, he had a name for his target. If he killed this Lord then the Clan vampires would fall apart once again.

~..~

"Your eyes are red again." Jasper murmured.

"What are you talking about?"

"They were blue last night." He propped himself up on his elbow to look at Tom's whole face.

"Oh? Even with all the Dark magic I cast?"

Jasper frowned just a little. "After we got back from the raid."

Now Voldemort frowned. "We both went to sleep after the raid, Jasper. Perhaps it was a dream." He waved away the vampire's words and stood, heading towards the bathroom.

Jasper watched him go with concern. He remembered nothing from last night beyond the raid. That was unsettling. Tom, much less Voldemort, never forgot. Was this a result of the death magic, or was it something more than that? He felt uneasy as he stood and went to one of the other bathrooms down the hall with clothes under his arm. He hoped that Tom didn't look any further than his apparent 'dream' because he honestly didn't know how to explain what had happened, and until he had an explanation, he wasn't saying a word. He knew Tom entirely to well and, even though there may have been some tender feelings for him by the other, he was well aware that wouldn't save him, especially as a vampire. Voldemort was paranoid enough to fall back on the excuse of Jasper using vampire wiles to seduce him.

"Not like it's hard." He muttered as he lathered up the shampoo in his hair.

If he was attracted to Tom far more than he should be, then the attraction went both ways. It took next to nothing to get what he wanted. A little patience and careful words and he'd wormed his way back into Tom's life, easily comfortable with his place in this war and the necessities of that position. He'd lost nothing as well. His position as a separate entity from the Death Eaters was secured, his previous identity of Harry Potter was undiscovered, and he doubted that the Dark Lord even suspected that he and Anguis were one in the same. All in all, everything was going smoothly, far better than he had hoped for.

~..~

"Sister we're here!"

"Quiet." Inimeg hissed. "We don't want them to know we are here until we are inside and have killed a few."

Both of the women stepped off the rowboat and onto the shore of the island. Gemini stepped ahead of her twin and held her hands directly out in front of her. "Here they are, just like Libra said they were."

Her hands were just short of touching the blood wards that surrounded the island, and it was only the charms they both wore that allowed them to set foot here without permission. Inimeg took a stand next to her and passed over another charm.

"Here. These are the ones that are supposed to let us through."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then we die."

Gemini examined the tinkling little bell and bounced it a few times. It didn't jingle. "I still wonder where Libra gets these things."

"We're probably better off not knowing."

Libra was the oldest out of all of them at forty-four, though he still looked like he was in his early twenties. Sagittarius was a close second at forty, followed by the pair them at twenty-seven, with Taurus being the youngest at twenty-one. Libra was the only one from the original Zodiac grouping, and so, he knew some of the archaic things that had been found by the others of that group. Or that was how the story went at least. Inimeg didn't necessarily believe that. She trusted Libra, would want no one else at her back when in a fight with a vampire besides her sister, but there was something there that set her teeth on edge. He made her nervous.

They stepped through the wards as if they didn't exist and headed straight for the prison. It took quite a bit more effort to get though the gate and inside without being noticed. There were several patrols of vampire guards and they also had to be wary of the humans that were confined to the cells. They headed down, past the cells and the catacombs until they came to a gaping hole in the wall that looked like it saw frequent usage. It also headed further down, and the pair was confident that they'd come to the entrance of the stronghold on the island.

Moving in the city was easier then anything else they'd done thus far. The vampires ignored them and the other humans didn't acknowledge their existence. It was like they weren't even real, just ghosts passing through. It wasn't much longer that they'd found what appeared to be a suitable target. They wanted to kill as many vampires as they could, but they also wanted them to be higher up in the infrastructure. Without their leaders, the rest would fall into chaos.

They came across their first victim in the winding halls. He was a young vampire, easy to kill, and he didn't even have enough time to make a noise before he was beheaded. They left the body in the middle of the floor and quickly moved on. Another male. Two women. A human servant. They cut them down as they passed, and the alarm was raised as some one finally discovered one of the bodies left behind.

"We have to split up." Gemini sighed sadly. They always killed easier when together, but they always killed more when apart.

"Move through that hall," Inimeg pointed down one that veered to the right. "And then head back to the surface. I'll go down this one and meet you there. You know not to wait for me."

Gemini gave her sister a nod and a salute before darting away. Inimeg watched her for only a brief moment before turning down the hall that went left. They would kill as many as they could safely, and then they would disappear.

~..~

Jasper was reading through the journal that he'd found the day before, when he had to stop in astonishment and was almost left gaping at the page. He knew this work. He'd done a short study on it while in school with Tom. He'd gotten no where, but it appeared that some one had. To think it was only a rumor of what Gellert Grindelwald had accomplished. That was why he knew that name. He slowly read through the page and found what had to be the precursor to the magic draining ritual he'd read about so long ago.

It detailed the use of five stones, all set in a pentagram around a desired area or room, and that would drain all ambient magic from that area along with stopping magic use. Each of the stone had to represent an element and be invoked beforehand. Then each was set at their designated points and drawn into a circle. The unfortunate downside was that it was impossible to lure some one into the circle. The loss of ambient magic is immediately noticeable, and raising the circle with some one inside had never been accomplished without the target noticing.

Then again, perhaps it wouldn't be so for him. Grindelwald and his men were unable to move through the shadows as he was. It wouldn't be hard for him to place the stone and sow the circle while unseen. In fact, that was a brilliant idea if it worked. He slowly closed the book and got to his feet. He already had the perfect test subject in mind. A simple stop at Mr. Ollivander's for a few sets of stone and he could go find his toy. He just needed to remember where Lucius was supposed to be right now.

"What are you plotting?"

"Nothing." He threw Voldemort an innocent look.

"As if I'll believe that when you have that look on your face."

Jasper smirked at him and closed the book. Tom didn't spare the tome a second look when the vampire slid it onto the small endurable next to the chair he was in. "Do you happen to know where Lucius is?"

"I believe that he is at his manor home and will be for the next few days." There was a short pause. "Why do I feel like you're tormenting my minions again?"

"Not yet."

"What are you planning to do?" He gave Jasper a curious look.

"Just an experiment. Nothing permanent… Well, at least I don't think it's permanent."

"Perhaps you should use one of the prisoners first?"

Jasper gave a slow nod. "Yeah. First time with some one expendable and then with some one a bit more fun."

"I would try to talk you out of it if I didn't know that it would be a completely futile effort." Voldemort sighed and was rewarded with a smile.

"At least I keep it interesting."

"That you do." He agreed.

~..~

Inimeg laughed as she kicked in the door with her blade drawn. The vampire inside didn't seem to be aware of her presence despite the noise she'd made upon entry. The pretty blond thing simply sat at a desk, penning what looked to be a note that she quickly folded up and was carried off by a raven that Inimeg hadn't been aware of. The blond turned to face her, and Inimeg didn't wait a moment more. She launched herself across the room with a wild swing of the short sword in her hand. The blond woman didn't even flinch.

"Luna!"

And then Inimeg progress was halted suddenly by something creeping up her legs, around her torso, and wrapping around her arms. Inimeg gave a panicked yelp and struggled against the vines that held her. They tightened their hold, crushing the breath from her lungs. She hacked away at what little she could reach. The vines screeched and let her go, falling away and making noises like a wounded dog as they retreated. She didn't turn to the second threat, instead going for her original target. The blond still hadn't moved, just stared at her with a strange smile on her face.

Luna ignored Neville's sudden entrance into the room. She only had eyes for her a little-more-than-human opponent. The human was quick, crossing the room in only a few loping steps. Luna raised her hand, her smile stretching a bit wider as she did so, and she brought it down sharply. A blur bolted from the side of the room, crashing into the woman and knocking her off her feet and to the floor. A brown wolf pinned the human to the floor, jaws snapping only a few inches from the exposed throat. Inimeg got her feet beneath the furious animal and pushed the soles of her shoes sharply into the wolf's midsection. She lashed out as the beast was forced backwards. Its throat opened in a spray of blood, and she was back on her feet. Luna was frowning at her, anger changing her eyes to fine serpent slits.

"Luna! Move!" Neville's sharp cry cut through Luna's anger, and the blond moved, quickly, across the room to stand by the former Gryffindor. His hair stood on end, the green streaks taking a faint glow as he slung his arm as if he were pitching a ball. A block of stone, easily a ten-foot cube, launched from the wall, crashing into the woman and pressing her between the block and another wall.

She cried out. "Sister!" And the cube pressed fully against the wall with a wet squelch.

~..~

Jasper moved through Voldemort's dungeons with an air of some one who was used to such horrific sights and sound. He was looking for his test subject. Hopefully it would be someone _not_ at the brink of death and who wouldn't kill over the first time something went wrong. This, unfortunately, limited his options, as most of the prisoners were kept close to death just on principal alone. Wounded prisoners had a harder time escaping, after all. He passed all of the doors closest to the entrance of the dungeons, as they were the ones most frequently harmed just because of access, and he headed to the far end. There was only one new prisoner, a woman, and one he recognized.

"My, my, just what do we have here." He purred, and his voice startled the woman. "I never _did_ get your name, darling."

He enjoyed the way she cringed back, as if she could disappear into the wall. He never expected an Order member to find their way down here, let alone one that was relatively whole, healthy, and one he'd run into before. She was the woman with Moody and Tonks at the alley when he had killed that auror, Shacklebolt. She would be perfect for his experiments since she was set to die anyway, and while he was doing that, perhaps he could extract some more information on the Order as well.

"Your name?" He asked again when she didn't speak.

"Emmeline. Emmeline Vance." She answered hesitantly.

"Now that wasn't so hard." He gave a smile that made her cringe again. "I'm looking for a… _volunteer_, you see. The benefits are good, especially for being a prisoner. The promise of food, healing, and no torture as long as you cooperate. If you do a good job, I'm even so inclined as to grant a quick end."

That she managed to look so horrified it amused him. Really, his offer was quite generous. If the others down the hall weren't so grievously injured already and of little use, he could bet that one of them would have immediately taken up the proposal. Perhaps he could come back in a few days after a couple of rounds with the Death Eaters. That would make her more compliant, and if he was quick enough, there wouldn't even be that much damage.

"I don't want to die."

He clicked his tongue. "I'm afraid letting you live is out of the question, little Order member. I already have one pet, and I won't take a second."

"You know I'm-"

"Oh yes. I knew as soon as I saw you, which should impress upon you how much I'm really giving you. I truly could just turn you over to Voldemort and find another, but I don't think you want to be left at his hands. While not creative, the Dark Lord is very skilled with a few pain curses."

"I- I-" She stumbled, trying to reason out why this wasn't a good idea and that he couldn't just sentence her to death like that. It was so cold, so callous, and it was about then that she remembered that this man wasn't really a man, but a vampire.

"Don't take to long, darling. I might just get bored and wander away." His voice held soft laughter, his eyes glowing shining at her with the knowledge that either way she was damned. That either way she was going to do what he wanted, and the only choice she had in the matter was whether or not it was going to hurt. Her hair slid forward to shadow her face as she bowed her head. Why did it always come down to this in war? Loyalty or torture? What kind of choice was that?

"I'm not going to betray them." She said resolutely as she looked back up, ready for him to turn and march out the door to go inform Voldemort of her presence. Instead he just gave her a thoughtful frown and nodded.

"You'll be my volunteer though?" There was a light in his eyes that made her uneasy, but she nodded. "Perfect." It was said in that same dark, rolling purr he had started with.

~..~

Gemini skittered around a corner and bolted down the hall. She could hear them behind her, and it was only luck so far that had kept her from being caught. There were just so many turns, and she kept losing momentum when she had to dodge around a corner. Hopefully Inimeg was having better luck than she was at the moment. She was coming up to the stairs that led back to the surface when once of the vampires finally caught up to her. Her short sword, the twin of her twin's, was pulled roughly from her hands. The rest of the vampires quickly caught up, and hands were searching her over for other hidden weapons. All her daggers were removed, her watch (which had a garrote wound into it), a revolver that had been tucked into her boot, and her hairpins which doubled as small knives in a pinch. Gemini looked up when finely polished black shoes came to a stop in front of her face. A man with violently yellow hair stared down at her, his face beautifully crafted from the flawless, pale skin, but then, they were all beautiful.

"I believe my Lord would enjoy talking to you." And the promises that lay in his voice made her tremble. Neither she or her twin sister had ever been held by vampires before, but now, in their arrogance, she was going to discover just how enjoyable a vampire's hospitality was. Curses raged through her mind, and she prayed that her sister had gotten away, only for another vampire's words to dash her hopes.

"The other has already been taken care of, Jean-Claude."

"Who did it?" He asked, turning away from the vampire hunter on the floor and dismissing her as a threat.

"My Lord and My Lady."

"Were they harmed?" Jasper would have his head if anything happened to the pair of vampires that he had personally turned.

"No, but My Lady is upset over the death of her pet."

"Send word to Lord Anguis about the situation and what is to be done." He looked back down to the hunter at his feet. "And take this to the shore and slit her throat." He changed his mind from earlier ideas. She was too dangerous to keep around. " I'll not take the risk of leaving her alive."

"Yes, Sir." They responded and went about their tasks.

~..~

Voldemort was at his desk, finalizing the plans for the Revel that was fast approaching, just barely a week away. The place had been secured and warded, supplies were already being pulled together, and all that was left was to make sure there would be no conflicts between the guests. He also had to decide whether it was the Lord Anguis and the vampires that were to attend or if it was going to be the werewolves and their tribe leaders. He would have preferred to having both there, simply as a show of strength to the other Dark wizards that had yet to join his cause, but alas, if he did so the grounds would likely be stained with blood before the first day was out.

Jasper had gone off to deal with a problem that had occurred on the island, so he was left alone with only occasionally competent minions for company. Not that he would ever admit to needing company or enjoying Jasper's. A hiss and the sound of scales crossing plush carpet alerted him to the return of his familiar, Nagini. The large snake slid across the room and crept up around his body so that she could peer over his shoulder while most of her length lay comfortably in her wizard's lap.

"_There are more here then since the last moon. They smell like your nest mate."_ She hissed softly.

"_They are vampires."_

"_They taste like mambas."_

"_And what do mambas taste like?"_ He asked her, stoking a finger across her head.

"_Danger and poison."_ The way she spoke, though serpents had no inflection to their voices, hinted at some subtle threat. He wasn't concerned. _"Did you find another nest mate while I was away?"_

"_Why would you ask that?"_

"_Your resting place smelled of three instead of two."_

"_What did this third smell of?"_

"_He tasted of mamba as well."_ Voldemort then got the distinct impression that she was frowning at him. _"Your first nest mate was venomous enough. Bringing in another is dangerous, be wary of their fangs."_ And then she slithered away.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to think. He'd just gotten his largest clue about who had been within his room, but why would a vampire attempt to warn him away from Jasper. Was it all a ploy to draw him from some building threat, or was it a serious warning about his vampire lover? He would have to keep a closer eye on the vampires that stayed here regularly. Once he found out who had left the note, he would get his answers.

~..~

"And you are completely sure they are – were Zodiac?" Jasper asked as he pressing his fingers along the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache building.

"There isn't anyway to verify completely without someone who already knows, but just by infiltrating and killing off some of ours, it is a good chance." Jean-Claude answered.

"What they hell were they thinking?" Jasper wondered aloud. "This was suicide. They practically handed themselves over and asked to be killed. Apparently there really are people that stupid still around." He gave a sigh and turned back to addressing Jean-Claude. "How many casualties?"

"Eleven vampires and nine humans."

Jasper spat several curses in three different languages. "Just the two of them and they got so many. Were we able to confirm any powers?"

"The first was killed before I had come across her, but the second was preternaturally gifted with some of the more physical attributes. Fast, strong, quick, and likely had a good sense of smell and excellent sight- probably even night vision."

"These two were the twins, right?"

"Yes."

"Honestly, I'm more worried about the one that we haven't heard anything from. Libra seems quiet compared to the other two."

"Should anything be done about the hunter that is staking out Hogwarts?" Jean-Claude asked.

"No. In fact, keep any vampires away from there. Those arrows are a nasty piece of work. Maybe I'll work something out with the Centaurs. They hate it when humans invade their territory, though I have to wonder if they were human at all." Jasper then fell into a thoughtful pause and tapped his fingers across the books on the shelves next to him. "Round up an assault group. Teach them muggle weaponry. No more then ten, and use those that are… less essential to the hierarchy."

"May I inquire as to your plans, my Lord?" Jean-Claude asked hesitantly. The memory of him disrespecting Jasper was still fresh in his mind, and he wanted no repeat of it.

"A bit of an experiment. Taurus is the most active out of the hunters. He uses muggle weapons –guns- as a way to kill us quicker and give him a needed edge to deal with our preternatural speed. I want to tip the scales to our favor. Give a group of vampires some guns, teach them to use them, and then set them loose on a hunt. Maybe we'll get lucky." Unlikely, but he could conjure up a bit of optimism now and again.

"And about the other, Libra?"

Jasper frown, turning so that he faced the books. Yes, what about Libra? There was even less to go on for that hunter than there was for Sagittarius. He could just feel that the last vampire hunter was up to something. It was in that tingle that ran up his spine occasionally. Whatever the last was doing, was going to be unpleasant in every aspect possible. He would bet on that.

"Have any of ours that are still out keep an eye for anyone that seems abnormal. Even if it is just a feeling of unease, tell them to take a description. We may be able to find a common link and at least identify what they look like. I'm curious as to why descriptions weren't taken back when the Clans hunted them down."

"They operated under the same group name, and they were always in contact, but they never moved together. They were smart in that aspect. We would have killed them all in one fell swoop if we could have. There were some that we never even saw face to face."

Jasper nodded in understanding. That was careless of them, but what was done, was done. He couldn't go back and change it, but they wouldn't be leaving any alive this time. If one of the three remaining tried to flee, he would do all in his power to have them tracked down and executed. He would allow no such threat a continued existence, lest they become like cockroaches and breed. Now, to move onto the next issue, Snape's confinement within the school and what it meant for the Dark forces.

The information gathering the man did was no longer an issue with his connection into Severus' mind, but his potions on the other hand, were needed. Snape was almost the sole brewer of the healing and mending potions that the Death Eaters had access to and that wasn't mentioning the other, more advanced potions that he provided, such as polyjuice or dreamless sleep. He would take Snape from the school, but that wasn't an option because the information still needed gathered. _Decisions, decisions_, he mused. It came down to what was more necessary, he supposed, the potions or the intelligence.

"Master?" Nymphadora asked quietly as she entered the room. "Lady Fiara would like a moment."

Jasper smiled. Maybe there wasn't a need to make a choice, perhaps there was an option right in front of him.

"Tell me, pet, how good an actor are you?"

~..~

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who left a review! I must say that I'm surprised at how many liked the Zodiac characters, though for the most part I'm trying to limit their involvement within the story. This chapter hasn't been beta'd. (I got a little impatient and wanted to update :P ) so please excuse the errors. _


	23. Chapter 23

_**Dark Revel**_

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_"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."_

_~ Edgar Allen Poe_

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Shadows crept from behind the trees of the forest, spilling over the damp grass, climbing over the tents, and skirting just outside of campfire's reach. The clearing was massive, easily holding the hundreds of people and creatures along with all the supplies that were needed. Their voices rose high in the night, calling to the moon until the sound resonated around them. Dark magic thrummed quietly in the night air and drew those that were part of the Revel to joyous heights. It had been so long since they had gathered like this, and now, even with the Light wizards on the lookout, they practiced their Arts freely in the company of those who could understand the pulsing need to feel that power whipping through their bodies.

Jasper watched them all with a soft smile. His vampires were freely enjoying the night. With all the tension recently, he was pleased that this opportunity had come along. Tom really was a brilliant planner, though a bit daring. He would have never planned such a gathering of Dark wizards and Dark creatures so close to the opposition, or even within the same country. He had grown cautious in that way. Not that it was a bad thing, but he was often restricted because of it.

"You seem happy." Tom's familiar voice was quiet, and the question 'why' was hidden within the few words.

"This is a time when we are free, though not completely so. I wonder if it will be like this when the Dark holds victory."

"It will." He stated with confidence, looking out at the tents and glowing fires.

Jasper nodded. "It will." He agreed, and then he sent the other a sly look. "You want to join them?"

"It's no fun without a little blood play."

"Unfortunately, we're among the minority." Jasper sighed in mock sadness.

Voldemort nodded. It was strange that with how the Dark wizards and creatures were in general, so many would have aversions to blood letting. Neither of them understood it, but then they also spilled blood for no other reason than they felt the inclination to do so.

"How did you get this organized so quickly with everything that had been happening? I had expected that there would be more problems with Dumbledore trying to jump down your throat."

"The old fool has no idea. Many of the raids within the past week were more of a distraction than an actual mission. I admit that it worked better than I thought it would."

"He doesn't expect you to be sane." Jasper pointed out, and felt Voldemort turn red eyes on him.

"There is that."

A comfortable silence fell between them and they just listen to the sounds of the Revel. Cheers grew louder all of a sudden. "They brought in some fun it seems." Jasper said and then paused with a tilt of his head. "Or, at least, your Death Eaters did. I have to say I'm surprised at how squeamish some of these Dark wizards are."

Tom chuckled. "Not all of them enjoy violence the way we do."

"I'm going down, are you coming?" Jasper asked as he started down the small hill they had both been standing on.

"I'll join you shortly."

Jasper nodded and walked on, and Voldemort watched him go. A breeze pulled gently at his robes and hair, and he looked up to the night sky and the pregnant moon.

~..~

Albus looked down at the document in his hand again before looking back up to the cloaked figure that stood on the opposite side of the inn room. When he'd been contacted for a meeting with a possible informant, he hadn't expected this.

"You are sure that this information is accurate?" He flipped through a few of the sheets of paper. Names, dates, and a location along with the wards that location was under. Just the amount of information he held in his hands right now was amazing, and the curiosity that was stirring about _how_ it was all attained was barely restrained.

"Very sure." It was the first thing the other had said the whole night, and it identified the informant as a male, which Albus had already suspected by the figure's build.

Dumbledore set the sheaf on the small room table. "I assume that you want something for this?" He knew very well that nothing was done for free, everything had a price.

The cloaked man didn't speak again, simply shook his head and turned away. He would get what he wanted by the end of this no matter what course he took. Jasper's death would be something celebrated, even if he went to hell before the vampire. He moved to the door and left the room. Only a matter of time. Albus watched him go without asking again. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He'd gotten the information for free, and he wasn't going to complain. He picked up the papers and left soon after, heading back to Hogwarts.

~..~

Jasper stepped from the shadows, Nymphadora already waiting for his appearance in her present guise as Snape. She'd only been here a few days thus far, but she seemed to have adjusted well and quickly. He'd been surprised at just how easily she had assimilated to life as the dour potion's professor, even down to the swooping cape and long strides. He could honestly say that he was pleased with her. He gracefully moved to take a seat in one of the chairs within the room.

"Report." He ordered as he sprawled out lazily.

"Classes are running smoothly, and no one appears to suspect me. The school looks to be running as usual with no mysterious or questionable guests roaming within the halls. I haven't seen any of the Order members either. Dumbledore did leave the school last night. I was unable to discover where he went or why."

"What was his mood when he returned?"

Nymphadora frowned just briefly. "Very pleased and a little… confused?"

"Confused?" He asked, willing her to clarify.

"Like he couldn't believe something had happened. It's that look you get, Master, when the Dark Lord does something stupid."

Jasper gave her a bemused smile. Confused wouldn't have been the word he used to describe that particular look, but she conveyed what she meant clearly enough. Now, if he could find out why Dumbledore had been so delighted with his evening venture. He shook his head. That wasn't a top priority now.

"How are the Dark children coping with their parents out of contact for the next two weeks?"

"The Slytherins are ill at ease and very nervous about not being able to contact them if something were to go wrong. Those in the other houses are faring better but are still jittery."

That was to be suspected, Jasper supposed. Everyone was looking to Slytherin for all the evils done in the school and with what Dumbledore and the Order had pulled last year with that interrogation of students, he could understand the wariness. Those in the other houses were naturally better off. They weren't in any danger though, Jasper was keeping a reliable vigilance over the students through Nymphadora. He would like to bring in a few students just to keep an ear for suspicious rumors, however. Perhaps one for each house…

"Have you heard about anyone on the grounds or causing a disturbance in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Hagrid mentioned unrest amongst the creatures but nothing else."

Jasper made an exasperated noise, but otherwise did nothing. At least he had been correct in the assumption that Sagittarius wasn't a human in any form. A human within the forest would either be dead by now –in which case a body would be found, or the remains of- or the person would stir up the creatures within. He was well aware of the policy that the centaurs had taken upon wizards and humans in general that came into their forest. They were just short of declaring a death sentence for those who trespassed. He would like to meet with them, but with the archer stalking the woods and the last close call, he wasn't about to risk it. Not until he found a way to ward off those arrows any ways.

"Keep a close eye on any news about the forest. Do _not_ attempt to enter it or any closer to it than the quidditch pitch."

"Yes, Master."

"Good. You may see me moving about the school in a few days. Do not attempt to approach me then even if you have vital information. You, in this form, must not be linked to me." Jasper stood from the chair and looked down upon the kneeling form. "You already know how to contact me if there is need."

"I understand, Master."

He gave a final nod and slipped away from the room. Now he just needed to attend to Severus, and then he could head back to the Revel and prepare for this evening's festivities.

~..~

"Luna?"

"Yes, Neville?"

"What are you doing?"

Luna didn't answer at first, busy with tipping a bottle of oil onto a rag and running it over the object in her hand. "Polishing." She said absentmindedly.

Neville gave a nod. "And why are you polishing that?"

"The assault team let me have one."

"We have an assault team?"

"Now we do."

"Oh," There was a short silence and then, "What is that anyway?"

"Jasper said it was a muggle weapon. A gun, I think."

"Aren't those dangerous?"

"Yes." She nodded confidently.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" He asked. He slowly edged to the side as the blond raised it and pointed. He may not know exactly what it did, but there wasn't any way that he was going to stand on the other end of it.

"Oh yes. Mr. Brutus said you point and pull the trigger." And to demonstrate she did so… just as the door to the room they were in was opening. The bullet cracked off the stone wall, ricocheting away, and Sirius threw himself to the floor with his arms curled over his head protectively.

"Bloody hell. Quit playing with that damn thing inside."

"Quit walking into rooms without knocking." Luna told him, and Neville had a feeling that this conversation had happened sometime before between the two.

"You're a vampire, you knew I was there!" He accused.

She scowled at him much to Neville's surprise. "Next time I'm not going to miss!"

"Like you could have hit me if you tried!" He mocked her once he regained his feet.

"Care to make a wager, Mr. Padfoot?" She asked as she raised the gun again with a voice full of promise.

Neville wasn't the only one to make an undignified squeaking noise. Sirius frantically shook his head. He knew when to back off, and this was one of those times. Luna, however, didn't care much. She gave the trigger another squeeze, and then she quickly followed Sirius through the halls as he attempted an escape, cackling all the while. Neville stayed in the room, well away from Luna and her fit of madness that was becoming a more and more common occurrence.

~..~

Jasper stepped out of the dark and into the room he had assigned to Severus for the duration of his time on Azkaban. The man wouldn't be here long, only until the Revel ended, but even so, Jasper had him brewing potions that would help with the health of the dark forces. Burn pastes, bruise salves, and others that didn't take more than an hour to make on their own, made up the majority of the new stock. He looked into the lab he had set up and found, as he had expected, Snape standing over a simmering cauldron. His steps were soundless against the stone floor as he approached slowly. He didn't want Severus to be alerted to his presence as of yet. The dour man was still nervous around him and went tense as soon as he spotted Jasper within any room. It may have been a bit vindictive of him, but the vampire enjoyed being able to make the man so wary. It wasn't just anyone who could do so.

Jasper stopped just a few inches away, directly at Severus' back. He could tell by smell alone that the potion within the cauldron was one made to heal deep lacerations. It appeared that Severus was relaxing within his new, if somewhat constrained, environment if he was making potions that needed a gentler touch. He reached up, his fingertips grazing the pale column of throat and sweeping back the man's dark, lank hair. Snape stilled, and an almost feral smile curled Jasper's lips. There wasn't any doubt that Severus knew who it was that stood behind him.

"Your double is filling in well." Jasper informed the other. "No one even suspects the change, and I have to wonder, if they don't even notice that you aren't really _you_, what was it that made their side worth fighting for?" Jasper let Snape's hair fall back around his face and stepped over to the side. He was still behind the other, but off to the side enough that Severus only had to turn his head just slightly to see him.

Snape didn't turn to look at him though. He kept his dark eyes locked on the potion, his face pulled in as neutral a look as he could manage. The vampire had yet to delve into the realm of punishment to show his displeasure, but with his last two masters, he didn't hold high hopes. All he had to do was wait. It was an inevitable fact in his life.

"Oh Severus," Jasper cooed, reading Snape's thoughts. "I'll only do you harm if you give me reason. I enjoy causing pain, but I never do so without just cause." He pulled Snape around, letting him feel the strength he was capable of without hurting him. "I'm not like Tom to lash out with crutiatus or painful curses, and I am not like Dumbledore to use vows made to torment you in ways that don't leave physical marks. I've told you this," He grasped Severus' chin not so gently this time. "I'm curious as to why you don't believe what I say. I don't lie. Bend the truth, perhaps, but never lie."

Snape didn't say anything, and Jasper frowned at him. "I expect an answer, Severus."

"Everyone lies." Was all he would say, and realistically, that was true, but then, Jasper had made it a point to not lie since he'd come back to live in this time. Lying would get him nowhere, and it benefited none. The truth, or implied truth in some cases, was so much better than made up stories, and he was good at bending the truth without breaking it.

"That would normally be true, but there is too much relying on the truths I tell to lie." He took a step back, releasing his hold on Snape as he did so. "Continue with what you were doing. You'll be joining the other Death Eaters once more soon enough."

Jasper turned and was gone from the room, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts.

~..~

Amelia Bones frowned at the man across from her. She didn't know why Albus Dumbledore had come to her instead of just walking straight up to the Minister, and she especially didn't know what he wanted her to do with the information he had given her. She gave him a stern look, one just short of a frown, and folded her hands on top of her desk.

"I can do nothing without ministry sanction. You know this. Why didn't you just take this up with Fudge?"

She could have sworn that there was a flash of anger in those aged blue eyes, but just as quickly as she thought she saw it, it was gone. Dumbledore passed her a benign smile, and she didn't buy the 'grandfather' look for even a single moment. Albus may have been able to manipulate others with that elderly man guise, but not her. She was no one's fool, and her scowl conveyed her thoughts on the matter.

"Ah, Cornelius and I had a falling out due to a recent… incident."

"The one where you and your vigilante group broke into the ministry, injured several people including an alleged civilian, and damaged the hall with so much spell fire that passage into the Department of Mysteries had to be halted until it could be repaired? _That incident_?" Her voice was flat and though it was phrased like a question, Albus knew better than to be so bold as to answer it. Amelia had a reputation for being a no nonsense woman, and he didn't doubt that she would have him bodily removed from her office. Still, he did give her an abashed face. Amelia gave a sigh that sounded almost pained. "Why are you here when you know my hands are tied?"

"I was hoping that you would pass this information to Cornelius since I am unable."

Amelia's lips pressed into a thin line, and Albus was struck at how she and Minerva looked alike with that particular face. "Unable or unwilling?" She gave a sigh. "Never mind. I'll pass this by him, but don't expect anything to come from it."

Albus wished her a good day and left the office. Amelia stood and grabbed the papers that Albus had left with her to show the minister. If this wasn't such a large operation she would have been able to move without the Minister's approval, but with the numbers on this page, she estimated that the whole Law Enforcement department would be needed. An operation of that magnitude _had_ to have the approval. She gave another quiet sigh. Sometimes these laws could be so tiresome, and they became even more tiresome with an incompetent minister whose only interest was lining his own pockets.

~..~

Lightning flashed, cutting through the dark sky and the roll of thunder quickly followed. Rain fell in heavy sheets, confining everyone to their tents for the night. The weather had been a bit of a disappointment, but nothing so bad as to ruin the entire evening. As Jasper had quickly discovered, this was a perfect opportunity to perform that test he'd been plotting out. Ollivander had been quick in sending the stones he had required, and, as if by psychic insight, Jasper had brought along Emmeline under the pretense of using her as a food source. No one had even questioned it, though he didn't know who would have dared to.

"Now, I want you to sit here, and tell me if you noticed anything when I return. Anything at all."

Emmeline nodded in understanding even though she was a bit confused. Jasper, for his part, had since decided that if he couldn't place the stones and sow the circle without notice, then this was a mostly useless venture. He wanted the loss of magic to be a surprise after all. He moved about the confined room within his tent, setting down the thumbnail sized gemstones at their appropriate points before quickly circling the room once more with salt and completing the circle. He stepped out of the shadows and back into Emmeline's view.

"Anything?"

"I heard a sound, like something moving, but that was it."

"I see. Don't move." He warned her and stepped from the circled area and invoking the power. He could tell immediately that it had an effect just by the way Emmeline stiffened and looked around nervously. She shifted uncomfortably, and Jasper had to wonder if she even realized that magic had been completely stripped from the room. He doubted it. The woman didn't seem like someone who'd ever been in a place with an absolute absence of magic before, and, therefore, didn't recognize what the loss was. He knew that he wouldn't be so lucky when it came to the target he had planned. Dumbledore was no fool.

Jasper tossed her a wand. It wasn't her wand, but it would do for this little test. "Try to cast a spell."

She attempted and failed. Shock and horror bled over her features, and she turned towards him. "You stole my magic?" While mostly a question, there was accusation in her voice.

"For now. I'll be finding out whether it is permanent as well." He cleared away the salt and summoned the stones. "Try again."

She flicked her wand and failed once more. Jasper made a curious face and nodded, a signal for her to try another spell. This time a lumos sprouted at the end of the wand, and Jasper sighed. That was a good sign. The effects weren't permanent then. He already had several more tests lined up to check how well the circle actually functioned, and it would have been much harder if this experiment had taken away Emmeline's magic for good.

"Now, we're going to try something else. Come here." She did so and he set the circle up within the room once more. "Cast a spell at it. A stunner if you will."

She did so, and the spell stopped as if it had crashed into a wall. He nodded. That result had been inspected. He sent her into the circle to cast a spell. Also as expected, the circle still cut her off from her magic. Jasper checked a few more things, such as a magical object's ability and even a portrait's life like qualities within. He was pleased to discover that, for all intents and purposes, magic died within the circle. Grindelwald certainly was a clever Dark Lord, wasn't he?

"That will be all for today, Emmeline. We can continue tomorrow, so get some rest." He turned away and left without looking to see if she had listened.

Oh, the things he could do now that he knew more about this little pre-ritual. It also gave him a bit of an opportunity as well, one that he hadn't even put much stock in.

~..~

"Really, Minister, you can't completely ignore this." Amelia waved the documents. "Even if there aren't Death Eaters involved, a gathering this large of potentially dangerous people just can't be let alone."

"I never said anything about Death Eaters!" Fudge denied, and Amelia had an urge to hit the man. That wasn't the point and Cornelius was being deliberately obtuse about the situation. She needed another play if she hoped to get authorization. She took a calming breath and pressed on.

"It is a strong possibility that these wizards may have information on the murders of Under Secretary Dolores Umbridge, Senior Auror Shacklebolt, and Alastor Moody." She tried, knowing that there was a high chance that the sheer publicity that the murders had garnered would likely sway him.

Cornelius twisted his bowler in his hands. He'd been on his way home when the woman stopped him. "I need more proof than just papers. Look at the names! Lucius! He would never!"

She nearly snarled in frustration. Fudge's blind belief in anyone who lined his pockets needed to stop, and not just because it was a damn inconvenience either. "Perhaps not all the names are correct, but even you have to see that so many people could not be a coincidence."

Fudge frowned and looked at the floor. Oh, what to do? He really just wanted to go home. He fidgeted back and forth and twisted the hat even more. "Do I need to sign off on anything?" He asked, deciding that if he didn't do something and the public found out, his ratings would drop again.

"Just this." She handed him a form and fought down a smirk. He penned his signature and was quickly gone through the floo. Now she needed to organize everyone. "You! Dawlish! Gather everyone, we're going on a raid!"

~..~

Jasper glanced around the obviously expensive tent, looking for the single occupant. A feral smile curled his lips. It appeared as if Lucius was out. He set up the ritual circle quickly and hid in the corner of the room. Now… what was the best thing he could do to torment his second favorite blond… It was too bad that glamours didn't work within the circle, but… he could change his voice. That was internal magic and wasn't affected by the negation of the ritual circle. In fact, what a perfect idea that was. Malfoy stepped into the tent, setting his cane just inside the door to take off his robes with an elegant shrug of his shoulders. It was when he was in the center of the room that Jasper spoke the incantation, and that was also the same moment that Jasper threw himself at Lucius' back, pinning the man face down to the floor. He paused only briefly to decide what voice to use.

"Hello, father." He spoke in Draco's smooth drawl, fighting down the entirely uncharacteristic fit of giggles.

"Draco, get off of me this instant." Lucius barked, struggling under the weight.

Jasper curled a lock of fine blond hair around his finger. "I don't think so father. You see, I've been thinking about what that vampire said about our supposed heritage and decided to do a little reading. Are you aware of the intricacies involved in activating dormant incubus blood?"

Jasper snorted as the man went tense under him. Apparently Lucius _was _aware. Things were going to be so awkward between Lucius and his son. Incubus blood could only be reactivated by the incubi's sire, and that by acts that were specific to the nature of the incubi. That is to say, sleeping together, and no matter how accepting the wizarding world may have seemed, relations between father and son were far beyond taboo. Lucius managed to squirm enough to draw his wand.

"I suppose you _are_ pretty enough."

"_Incarcerous._" Lucius hissed, slashing the wand over his shoulder.

The spell failed magnificently, and Jasper couldn't help the completely un-Draco like laugh that slipped out. He regained himself quickly and pressed on and clicked his tongue. "Father, father, father, turning your wand on your own son?"

"Draco, this is entirely inappropriate. Release me this moment and the matter will be all but forgotten."

"But father, haven't you always wanted standing? Glory to the Malfoy name? What more could we gain when there is an heir with demon blood?"

"Think about what you are saying Draco." Lucius tried, just short of pleading. "You truly don't want to go through with this."

"But don't you love me, daddy?" Jasper asked, almost chortling, but, unfortunately, his fun was short lived as the captive blond caught a hint. Draco, under no circumstance, would call his father 'daddy'.

"Who are you?" Lucius hissed.

Jasper leaned forward and, lifting the circle as he spoke hissed in Lucius' ear. "Whoever I feel like being." And then he was gone.

~..~

Voldemort turned in his seat. It seemed that he was developing a need to fidget, but with a sudden feeling of disquiet he felt it was well deserved. There looked to be nothing that caused the sensation, everything was moving as planned, and there hadn't been any sort of problem to develop. So what was it? He shifted again, crossing then uncrossing his legs in a vain hope to ease his discomfort by finding a better position. He went to move again and found hands planted firmly on his thighs.

"Stop that!" Jasper growled. "I swear, you keep moving and I'm going to have to do something about it. Mother of the Night, you're like a small child."

Voldemort frowned at him, but went still under the hands. He couldn't blame Jasper. The vampire was had been twitching every time he'd moved after the first hour and a half.

"What has you so frenzied in the first place?" He asked, smoothing his hands up Tom's thighs, trying to loosen the tense muscles.

"I am unsure."

Jasper leaned up and spread himself fully over Tom's lap so that he was giving the man a near-awkward hug around the waist. "You could always distract yourself." He said, and the look he gave to the Dark Lord couldn't be misinterpreted.

"I could." He mused. "Unfortunately for you, the tent cannot be silenced, and I have no tendencies towards sharing –even indirectly- or exhibitionism."

Jasper made a sound of pleased disappointment, but pulled away so that he could look up at Tom. His scarlet eyes were darker than they were usually, like the color of a warm burgundy that somehow conveyed softness. The fine lines around his eyes and mouth from years of stress were eased though Jasper could still see the worry faintly etched on his handsome face. He couldn't tell the other that there was nothing to be concerned about, as there almost always was whenever Tom was in a moment of apprehension. Instead he reached up and held Tom's face gently, looking at him without any mocking for his edginess.

"I'll let the Death Eaters and the vampires know to be battle ready." He gained his feet and went to leave when his wrist was captured. Jasper looked back and nodded at the smile in Tom's eyes. It was probably as close to 'thank you' as he was going to get.

Once Jasper was gone, Voldemort shifted again, though this time without the anxiousness as before. He relaxed back into his comfortable chair and summoned a drink to his hand. Now at least, they would be prepared if something did go wrong. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before Jasper returned and seated himself across from the Dark Lord.

"Everyone that needs to be ready, is." Jasper said as he slung a leg casually over the arm of the chair he was in and slouched along his side. "Now, are we going to hit the ministry or Dumbledore's forces first?"

"Dumbledore needs to be neutralized before the ministry can be taken."

"I know that, but I was talking about his people. Do we move them out of the way, taking out his offensive options?"

"It would be easier without the Order." Voldemort agreed. "But to the Light forces, they would just become martyrs and draw others to their cause."

Jasper nodded. "And if we made an example of them?"

"How so?" He asked, looking curious.

"You heard about Mad-Eye, I'm sure." He said casually with a flick of his hand. "What about sending a message? Finding one of those Order members and displaying them somewhere at Hogwarts?" Then Jasper gave a pause. "Or perhaps not. I wouldn't want to scare away the next generation of fighters for the Dark."

"No, Hogwarts is perfect. Most of those who are there have already chosen their course, but perhaps, an area where older students usually traverse, those who would understand what was being handed to them."

"The gates. Hogsmead weekend is open to third years and above, but it is the best place to keep the first and second years from seeing as they've no reason to go to the gate."

"I suspect that there will be a particularly brutal message passed?" Voldemort asked knowingly. Jasper gave him a smirk.

"I suppose that's doable. I even happen to have a person in mind." He answered, thoughts automatically turning to the woman he already had. She was going to die anyway. Her death might as well be worth it. He would even be so kind as to kill her before he began his work since she had been so cooperative.

"Of that I have no doubt."

"Now, about that-" Jasper's question was cut abruptly at the unmistakable sound of the wards being torn down.

~..~

Aurors took stand around the perimeter, just at the edge of the wards. They formed up lines, only two deep and readied themselves for the order to move forward. A string of curse breakers was organized behind them, preparing themselves to crash the ward scheme that protected the dark wizards on the other side. When the signal was given, they set to work. The sound of a ward breaking was a strangely amazing and awful thing, a piercing sound that was stuck between breaking glass and a wail, and it was far more resonant with a ward set instead of just a single one. The aurors didn't waste a single moment once the obstacle was gone. The noise may have alerted the targets to the fact that there were gatecrashers, but they couldn't have prepared for the forces that were ready to meet them. They charge forward, flowing from the trees like shadows to the clearing where the tents lay and setting them afire as they pushed on. They met the first line of resistance, all of whom were clad in dark robes and smiling masks.

"Cover the retreat!" Voldemort stepped forward in dark green robes, leading his followers into the fight.

Bright flashes of light spread across the increasingly shorter distance as the two sides collided. Voldemort's face was twisted in concentration as he slashed through his enemies. His forces weren't made for this kind of full on battle. They weren't likely to last long as they were. Death Eaters were a quick strike team, never encountering more than a small squad at a time. He hissed a severing curse that passed through three aurors before it dissipated. The allies needed to be gone soon, he was already aware of his forces being pushed back.

"Slay them all!" The call drew Voldemort's attention even in the middle of combat. Jasper's voice rang with a familiarity that he had never associated with his vampire lover, and when he looked over, he understood why. Clad in the Lord Anguis' blood red robes with a drawn blade in hand was Jasper, the other vampires forming an entourage around him as they cut a swath through the interlopers. He caught golden eyes and the flinch within them, but pressed on. It would be dealt with later when there weren't lives on the line.

Voldemort cut his gaze away and launched a sickly green curse into one of the wizards who had drawn too close. He wasn't sure how he had missed it. If he thought back, the fact that Jasper and Anguis were one in the same was obvious, but as they say, hindsight was 20/20. He used the rage that swelled within him as fuel for his spells which had dropped into the realm of ruthless viciousness. Finally, the signal declaring that the others had gotten away safely rose into the sky, and Voldemort paused just a moment to throw the Dark Mark into the sky that informed his followers of their own retreat. They disappeared in a flood of disapparition along with the vampires, leaving the ministry forces alone on the field save for the bodies of the dead.

~..~

He watched with a smile from his perch in a tree. The wind picked up and gathered his cloak before letting it drop once again. Better results couldn't have been asked for on this night. The Revel was ruined, humans were dead, and one of Jasper's secrets had been revealed. Perhaps not the biggest, but then, he was saving that one for a bit later, once he was more sure of Voldemort's reaction to the little tidbit of who Jasper really was and had been before. The next time he left warning for the Dark Lord, Voldemort was sure to pay more attention to it. It hadn't been easy, after all, to slip into a warded manor home and into Voldemort's personal chambers to leave a note behind.

He stood on the branch with perfect balance, watching as the fire swept through what had once been a camp and the aurors scrambled to put it out before it spread to the surrounding forest. Call him spy. Call him informant. Call him _traitor_. He raised a small flask in silent toast. They could call him what they willed, but no one would know his name until it was too late. Far too late. And then he would laugh as they tried to find a foothold as everything fell apart around them, crumbling to little more than dust and empty promises.

"I'll burn your world down around you, Jasper." He promised and chuckled as he took a drink.

~..~

Jasper's hand froze on the handle. He was at the door to Tom's study, the other already inside, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to enter or not. No matter his intentions, Tom was going to take his actions as a betrayal. They weren't, he was only trying to protect the vampires as much as he was able, but he doubted that the Dark Lord would care for the reasons on why he did it. He flipped his hair back, squared his shoulders, and walked in. There was no reason to delay the inevitable.

"Tom."

"Lord Anguis." Voldemort hissed, and Jasper did nothing to hide the wince the title caused. He deserved that.

Voldemort stood and walked around his desk to stand only a few feet away. That he looked so calm worried Jasper all the more. Voldemort wasn't a calm man. He raged. He yelled. He tossed around the crutiatus curse like a party favor. He _did not_ do calm and placid. Voldemort's yew wand twisted end over end between his fingers with a glint in his eye that made Jasper want to take a step away. This had turned out worse than he could have ever expected.

"Tom, I-"

Jasper didn't expect the blow, though he should have. His head snapped to the side, a small line of blood slipping out the corner of his mouth from a wound that healed almost instantly. He turned slowly to look at Tom, who was glaring back with chilling red eyes. He felt his body go cold at the look. There was nothing familiar in that gaze. It was if every bit of Tom had left and only Voldemort was there to stare back at him. He wiped the blood of his chin with a swipe of his thumb. Tom was beyond angry if he would dare to resort to physical violence like some common muggle thug.

"_Get out."_ Voldemort slipped into parseltongue. _"Get out, and don't you dare return here."_

Jasper jerked as if he'd been struck again. "Tom please-"

A jolt of magic threw him, and the furniture around Voldemort, against the wall. He hit with a sharp sound and his whole body fell numb for a moment. _"I said to get the fuck out!"_ He hissed and cast a crutiatus across the room.

Without any other option, Jasper did as bid, disappearing in a wave of shadow. Voldemort snarled in rage, and lashed out at what little was still nearby.

~..~

A/N: I felt that that was a perfect ending for this chapter, though I expect that there will be some who disagree. To my reviewers… you have all become my favorite people, and you have my utmost thanks for leaving reviews, especially for the high praise. Of course there is my beta that gets some of my biggest thanks for muddling through my mistakes and fixing them.

_Also, my apologies to all those who try to skip over the lemon scenes. I don't know why the * were removed but hopefully I'll soon have enough time to go back through and fix it or replace it with something else. Again, sincerest apologies. _


	24. Chapter 24

_**Running of the Bull**_

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_Courage without conscience is a wild beast._

_~ Robert G. Ingersoll_

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Jasper sat stiffly at his desk; his face perfectly blank as he worked on several documents that would finalize several of his plans. With the Zodiac still moving, and his forces in the ministry removed, it would take a more forward approach to subvert those within the government. That subversion needed to happen quickly. His ties and information network were on a hold simply because all of the usual contacts were now missing and back on the island. It was all such a mess, and the only things he could do to correct it were either to get rid of the Zodiac threat or organize new non-vampire contacts within the system. He wasn't sure which would take longer. Of course if he asked Tom...

He ended the series of thoughts abruptly with a harsh stab of his quill. The feather pen snapped and ink glided out over the paper he was working on. He wouldn't allow his mind to wander there, not over something that he couldn't even feel regret about. There wasn't anything he could do, and there was nothing that could change what had happened. He just… had to move on, move forward. Anything less than that was unacceptable. He banished the ink on the page and started writing once more. Being buried in work was better than numbly thinking about what he'd done wrong anyway.

"My Lord?"

"What is it Jean-Claude?" Jasper asked without looking up from his work.

"The team with muggle weaponry is ready."

"Send them out then." He waved his hand, only slightly surprised that the vampires had grasped how to handle the weapons so well. He had thought that it would take longer, but then, it was likely that the ones chosen for the group had had previous experience with guns.

"Where do you want them to start?"

Jasper looked at the map tacked up on the wall. Red dots marked the areas that were believed to be attacks by Taurus. There were ten in all, all of which slowly moved north. If the pattern was accurate then the best point to start a search would be Glasgow and the places nearest. He told the blond as much.

"And keep an especially close eye on any nests in the area. I wouldn't doubt that Taurus would go a little out of the way to kill some vampires. As a matter of fact, send them up a little further north and have them establish a home there, acting as Flock born vampires. It will probably be far more efficient to lure Taurus in than to chase him around the country side."

"As my Lord wills." Jean-Claude said formally as he gave a curt bow and quickly disappeared from the room. Jasper had been in a foul mood since returning from Voldemort's side almost a week ago, and the blond had no intention of riling up any sort of anger when he was likely to get cursed for it. In fact, thus far, the only ones saved from his new volatile temper were Luna, Neville, and those who avoided him completely.

It wasn't long after Jean-Claude had left that his door opened once again. Jasper didn't bother greeting his guest. She didn't come here to talk anyway. She would just sit there, like she had for the past few days, and just watch him as he filed the papers. It was fine with him. Just her presence helped to calm his irritation, but he had a feeling that today was going to be different if the way she was looking at him was any indication. He sighed and put his quill down.

"What is it?"

Luna gave him a sad look. He sounded so tired. "You need to take a break, Jasper. You haven't stopped since you got back. It's alright to feel sad about the loss."

He gave a bitter chuckle and could have sworn that she flinched because of it. "That's the problem, I can't." He gave her a fang filled smile that was more of a snarl. "I am unable to feel sadness or regret, so is the _gift_ I have been given." And he spat the word 'gift' with such venom that she did flinch this time.

"You can't do this to yourself." She tried gently, reaching for his hand that was clawing into the surface of his desk.

He pulled back and got to his feet, turning away so that he didn't have to look at her. "I don't want to discuss this."

"Jasper." She whispered his name.

"Please go, Luna."

She wanted to say something more, but when he didn't even turn the slightest towards her, she nodded and left. It was too soon, she supposed. Later, once everything had settled and more was going right, she would try to speak to him again. There had to be something, though, that could pull him out of the downward spiral he'd set for himself. Even a vampire wasn't able to live on nothing forever, and Jasper hadn't fed since his return. She wasn't the only one worried, but few others were safe from his quick wand work.

~..~

Jasper appeared just outside of Hogwart's gates with Emmeline held tightly in his grasp. The woman was unconscious, and he would leave her that way. He would give her that kindness at least. A quick Avada Kedavra ended her life, and he set to work after another spell to keep her heart beating. He levitated her up and bound her to the gate with transfigured wires that tore open her wrists. Blood flowed from the wounds down her wrists and arms to soak into the shirt she wore. He worked skillfully, cutting and drawing out organs and tying them up until the dead woman looked like some sort of macabre angel. His wand slashed leaving burning letters floating in the air.

_Number 4, Dumbledore. How many stand with you now?_

He paused only a heartbeat to give the corpse one final look and walked away. Doing such things bothered him more than he would admit to. He could kill without conscience and torture without moral. Desecration though, that was something else. It didn't turn his stomach, but it was a close thing despite his years around death in all its forms. He respected the dead as strange as it seemed. This would likely be the last time something like this would be necessary, however. He cast his magic towards the Forbidden forest before he left the area entirely, searching for anything that touched his senses as something that shouldn't be there. There was nothing. He drew the shadows around him and vanished in a swirl of darkness.

After he was gone a form appeared at the edge of the forest, bleeding from the shadows almost like a vampire. He was tall, easily touching six foot with a long mane of light brown hair that was loosely tied back. Glass beads strung through his hair clinked gently as he took a few steps forward to get a look at what the vampire had left behind. His face curled into disgust quickly. Typical vampire to leave the dead in such a way. Monsters, the lot of them. He adjusted his bow across his back and moved into the trees once more. He would be watching for that particular vampire more carefully. That one had escaped his arrows once before, and the creature wouldn't be allowed to do so a second time.

~..~

Voldemort had waited some days after Jasper –no, Lord Anguis- had disappeared before venting his rage. Unfortunately for the Death Eaters, they were the targets of choice, though that wasn't unusual in any way. Their failure at their individual tasks only gave him more reason to curse them. He'd been part of more raids in the past three days than he had in the last three months, four of which he had gone along on his own simply to save the muggle kills for himself. He didn't really notice, however, the backsliding he was doing, slaying anyone and anything magical that crossed his path. Nor did he notice that madness was slowly creeping up again, wrapping around his mind and rendering his attacks and plans to mere terror strikes without purpose. If the Death Eaters did notice, none of them were fool enough to speak of it.

That didn't prevent Lucius from brooding over it. He would be the first to say that he hated that vampire. Hated him more than anything else, save for perhaps Dumbledore himself and his little pet Potter, when the boy had been alive. He was well aware though, of how coherent his lord had become with the other's presence. He may even go so far as to call the vampire an anchor for the Dark Lord's sanity. The proof was clearly before him. Voldemort hadn't been quite himself until the vampire's presence had become more and more often, and without that creature around, he was worrying for his own chances of not only being with the winning side, but merely surviving.

That settled it, he decided, eyes drifting up to lock on the figure perched on the throne and torturing another for a failed assignment. He needed some kind of backup plan, one that didn't involve spying, the old man, or pain in any form. Severus, he would talk with Severus. The man's loyalties were always in doubt, simply by virtue of his position, but Lucius couldn't name a man with a stronger instinct for survival. He fell into a bow same as the others as they were dismissed and disapparated straight to Hogwarts.

~..~

Voldemort was sprawled almost casually across his throne. His minions were gone, and the only things within his manor were Nagini and the few house-elves he owned for maintaining the place. He had moved the vampire guards back to a small hovel on the property as, with the alliance still valid, he couldn't kill them or send the away entirely. He may be pissed off at Jasper, but he wasn't so far gone to tempt the vampire's hand into retaliation by slaying his men. He knew very well the power commanded by Jasper, and he didn't doubt that a lot of damage could be done to his forces were the vampire so inclined. That didn't mean, however, that he was just going to allow the other to waltz back in. No, for the deception there had to be a price paid, and if it couldn't be paid in blood, Voldemort would settle for emotional torment. And it was torment. For a vampire, Jasper had always been an emotional creature, though he'd been able to temper those feelings and hide them when the need came. It was almost an assured thing that he was sewing himself into isolation as was his way when they were in school.

He picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been resting on the arm of his throne to read over once again. Most of it, as usual, was typical Ministry propaganda and how they were so close to catching him and his followers. Amusing to say the least, but what drew his interest was the article written about a murder on school grounds. He knew without a doubt that it was Jasper's work since none of his had such audacity to kill on the Old Fool's grounds and leave such a blatant message. It wasn't particularly detailed, nor did it have an accompanying picture, but it did do well in underlining the sheer gruesome-ness of what had been found by the care taker, Filch.

~..~

Jasper stalked through the familiar halls of Hogwarts on light feet. It had been a little over a week since his he'd left the Order member, Emmeline, tied to the gates, and things had settled now. Jasper was actually a little disappointed. So much recent death and destruction and, when a body was left pinned to the gates, little more was done than a cursory investigation that was done and ended after only two days. He paused at one of the large windows, looking out over the forest bathed under the moon. It made him wonder what was left for the future of the species when they don't worry about their young being so close to murder. The muggles took care of their own in that way, though there were always the exceptions. It was willful blindness he supposed. The school was supposed to be the safest place in the UK with only Gringotts ranking higher, so they ignored the obvious.

He scoffed quietly and continued on. It was a wonder that wizards had survived as long as they had. He'd said it before and he meant it when he said it again, magic made humans stupid. Well, most humans at any rate. Occasionally there was one or two that cropped up and kept common sense about them, but never enough to have any impact on others. He turned his thoughts away and back to the matter at hand. There was a reason he'd come here, after all, and he intended to see that reason through. He had discovered in the past few days that without his vampire or even the Death Eaters information, he and his were virtually in the dark. An unhealthy position to be in at the best of time and considering the downturn everything had taken, well…

He came to a stop at a rounded alcove with a statue placed as the guard. Willing spies within the student body –or in general- were hard to come by, and the unwilling ones would give themselves away eventually. So he'd come up with an idea, one with a mix of a slave bond and a legilimancy probe, that would feed him the information without them being aware. The only 'maintenance' that would have to be done, would be manually implanting suggestions into their heads to gather specific information. And, if he were being honest with himself, Snape was actually the inspiration for the idea. He slipped into the shadows and beyond the door, his feet touching down on soft blue carpet the moment he crossed.

Ravenclaw dorms were tastefully done, he decided. Gryffindor had been a bit ostentatious, and Slytherin played far too much into the world's perception of them to be comfortable. Ravenclaw though, with its hues of blue and bronze, was calming, if not a little frigid. The chairs and couches were spaced too far to encourage a more personable setting, but with the 'Claws reputation, they were reading all the time any ways. He cut through the common area and headed straight for the seventh year boys' dorm. He didn't know the name of his target, but he knew that the boy was a pureblood and his presence wouldn't be questioned if he was seen wandering.

He gently pulled back the blue curtains from the bed, not waking the single occupant. He cast a quick look around the room and then touched the temple of the student, sending magic into the other's mind. His magic settled down like black feathers over memories and thoughts, sending them reflecting into Jasper's own mind. The energy anchored easily, encountering no resistance, and he pulled away. This method wasn't fool proof, and it wouldn't last forever, but he only needed it until the end of the school year or until Dumbledore died. Whichever came first. He pulled the curtains closed and left the Ravenclaw dorm, heading down to the Hufflepuff rooms to repeat the process. A whisper of sound coming down the hall set him falling into the shadows of the school

"What? Where'd he go?"

The question was followed by a heavy sigh. "Obviously he left."

"But where could he go? He was standing right there."

The pair finally came into view, and Jasper scowled, just now remembering an obvious fact. He'd left what little of his belongings here at the school, and it seemed like Ronald and Hermione had found that those belongings included a special map. He gave a frustrated sigh. That would need to be taken away before he left, and preferably before they screwed up his plans.

"We should tell the Headmaster." Hermione said, tugging Ron in the direction of the stone gargoyle.

Oh no they wouldn't, Jasper scowled, stepping out into the hall. This would be taken care of now. He came up quickly behind them, far too fast for them to even recognize another presence on the map let alone react, and he swept the parchment from their hands. He gave a tittering laugh as they swung around in panic and took a step back, letting them see whom it was they stood before. Hermione was the first to reach for her wand when she realized that she didn't recognize the person before her. It and Ron's were scooped away just as fast as the map had been. Both turned to run and were stopped by a spell.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Two little lions out of their cages?" He clicked his tongue at them, enjoying the way they paled. "That just won't do." He shook his head.

"Who are you?" Ron asked as he struggled in the magical bindings.

"Me? I would tell you, but I'm afraid that I'm a little busy. Things to do, you see." He smiled at them, flashing fangs. Hermione faded to a new shade of white, though it seemed as if Ron had missed the obvious clue.

"You can't just march in here and tie up students!" Ron shouted, and Hermione hissed at him to shut up. Jasper cast a silencio at the pair. He didn't want their calls to draw in another, especially not now. Later, if he remembered.

"Ah, that's where you're mistaken, little boy. I can do as I please. Now, to make sure that you aren't found to soon." He looked into one of the near-by rooms, nodded to himself, and moved the two inside. He left their wands on a high shelf that would be impossible for them to reach while bound. "Don't go anywhere." He ordered and walked away, closing the door behind him with a chuckle.

He didn't mind if Dumbledore found out about his presence within the school since the old fool could do nothing about it anyway, and even if he searched through his new spies' minds, he would find nothing to draw attention. In fact, it could finally force the man to realize the faults that lay within the so-called protections of the school. He folded the map after taking a quick glance and burnt it as he walked down the hall. There was no longer use for it, and he wouldn't even chance it falling into enemy hands no matter how great a resource it could be. Now, to figure out what Lucius Malfoy was doing at the school at this hour.

~..~

Lucius walked quickly down to the dungeons, his cane clicking softly against the stone. He would have floo-ed, but that old bastard had closed off all the inbound traffic, and even outgoing was monitored closely. He might have suspected that it had something to do with the recent murder, but Lucius knew better than that. It was far more likely that Dumbledore thought Severus had a hand in the murder as retaliation for some slight or another. The headmaster had become very paranoid about his 'pet' death eater as of late, though Lucius had to admit some surprise that it had taken so long. He stopped in front of the portrait that opened to Severus' quarters and knocked the head of his cane against the frame. It took only a moment for Snape to open the door.

"Lucius." Severus greeted neutrally. "What are you doing here at this hour?" He asked as he stepped back to let the blond enter.

"Recent revelations have shown the need for some friendly advice."

It was the tone of voice that led Severus to his offer. "Firewhiskey?"

"Please." Lucius nodded and took a seat on the chair. He took the glass when Snape returned and swirled the liquid slowly, listening to the ice clink against the sides. "Severus, my friend, I've doubt you heard, but the Dark Lord has begun a decline into his earlier state. You've been lucky with the excuse of confinement to this castle, but others are not so fortunate. Myself included. I've begun to realize that, perhaps, some of my choices may have been a bit impulsive, leaving me and my family with no alternatives to choose from."

Jasper, who had hidden in the shadows to listen on the conversation, snarled softly. He already knew where, exactly, Lucius was going with this conversation. He hadn't been aware that Tom would fall away so quickly without the stabilizing influence of, not only himself (Jasper), but the horcrux that was strung about his throat. He was drawn back to the pair when Severus, or really Nymphadora, spoke.

"Quit beating around the bush, what is it that you want."

Lucius smirked but nodded. "You are a survivor, Severus, and I want my family and myself to survive this no matter what side wins."

"You realize that you are asking the impossible. Your wife and son, perhaps, but you have stood at the Dark Lord's side and tortured with the best of them. If the Light wins all that is waiting for you is the Kiss."

"And you have not?" The blond asked blandly with a wry smile. "You were right alongside Bella and me, enjoying it just as much."

"Yes, but I have the protection that my status offers." Severus argued back. "I am a spy, or so they think, and I am safe."

"You honestly believe that? I didn't take you for a fool." Lucius sneered. "The Light will do away with you once this is all done."

"I already have plans in place for that."

Lucius took a long drink. "And I ask that you organize the same for me."

"You plan to betray the Dark Lord?"

"That has nothing to do with the present situation." Lucius said, but failed to deny the accusation.

"Master isn't going to like this." Lucius heard Severus mutter, and it was only a second later he was bound tightly to the chair he was sitting in.

"No, I'm not." Jasper said as he finally stepped forth.

"Master." Severus slid to his knees, and Lucius watched in dawning horror as the man melted away to a womanly visage. He recognized her only after a moment. That missing auror girl, Tonks.

"You did very well, my pet. I'll have a reward for you later." He turned to Lucius and watched in satisfaction as the blond paled. "As for you, wayward little death eater, I'm afraid that your compliance is no longer voluntary." Jasper's smile was positively feral. It seemed that the binding he used on the actual Severus Snape was going to be of use again. "Return to your duties, my pet." He hissed as he slid away in the darkness, pulling Lucius along with him.

~..~

Albus sent Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley from the room after he had finished questioning them about the previous night's events. They'd been found bound and silenced in a classroom after their dorm mates reported them missing from both breakfast and early classes. That had started a castle wide hunt for them. Luckily, they had been discovered quickly, and when they had mentioned Harry Potter showing up on the marauder's map along with a vampire appearing, he had shooed them up to office without another word.

Now he was contemplating what this all meant. He'd been utterly sure of Harry's demise by the vampire's hands even without a body being found. If he really was alive, then that meant the prophecy was true once more. As for the map… well, the children no longer had the map, saying the vampire had taken that as soon as he appeared. That was strange as well. The vampire had knowledge of things that he either shouldn't, even if he was in contact with Harry, or that he couldn't have immediate understanding of. The marauders had been clever in the production of their little map, and the vampire shouldn't have been able to know what it was quickly enough to know to take it.

No, there was something he was missing, some obvious clue that tied this all together in a way that made sense. If only he could find it. He popped a lemon drop in his mouth and scowled harshly at his desk as his arms folded tightly over his chest. Think, Albus, think. What scenario made the most sense? Cole said that Harry was dead. Obviously, he was lying, but why would he lie about that? Were the vampires trying to protect one of their own? There had to be more to it than that, he thought as he shook his head.

Harry had something over them.

Albus nodded at the idea. Yes, that made sense. Harry was manipulating the vampires. Had to be. There was no other possible explanation. He nodded again and took another lemon drop. Then he paused and shook his head. No, that was wrong. What could Harry possibly have to hold over vampires, some of which could end his life with a flick of the wrist? Dumbledore tugged at his beard gently. It was ever so more and more curious. He would think about it later. Yes, later sounded good.

"Albus?" Minerva asked as she entered the office. "Albus, what are you going to do about this? That vampire is still able to pass the wards and enter the school!"

"I'm working on it, Minerva. Don't worry m'dear." He said with a smile.

"Don't you patronize me, Albus Dumbledore! If it wasn't for the Minister's renewed faith in you for passing on that information, I've little doubt he'd use the recent disturbances to oust the lot of us! You need to be serious!"

Dumbledore gave a plaintive sigh and reluctantly decided to humor the witch. Really, didn't she know better than to doubt him? "I'm doing what I can to change and erect different wards in the hopes of keeping the vampire out. I'm calling in several ward experts to assist. There's nothing to worry about." Now, to give the old girl something that will distract her. "On a different note, it appears that Harry Potter was in the castle last night according to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."

"Mr. Potter?" She asked reservedly but excitement glowed in her eyes. The boy had been one of her lions, and she was pleased to hear that he may still live.

Albus nodded almost enthusiastically. "It seems that that was the reason for Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger's late night outing."

"You are sure of this?" She asked and gripped the back of the chair nearest to her. Then she paused and gave thought. "Did… did you ever discover about his ties with the vampires?"

"I'm afraid not, m'dear. I do ask that you keep an eye out for him."

"Of course, Albus." She nodded curtly and was gone from the room, forgetting about her original purpose for being there in the first place.

~..~

Jasper blinked once. Twice. And, "Excuse me?"

"The assault team has pinned down Taurus's location. We're ready to move on your orders, My Lord."

"Where at?" Jasper asked as he stood abruptly and strode towards his room, gesturing for the other to follow.

"In an abandoned farm house alongside a rode heading north out of Glasgow. The team has surrounded the entire area, but is keeping a fair distance between the house and themselves."

"How do they know that this is Taurus?" He questioned, slipping battle robes over his shoulder and pulling out the sword that had been crafted for him.

"One of the team spotted him leaving a place belonging to a nest of vampires. The farmhouse went up moments after he left the area. They tailed him to the house."

"What is the site like?"

"Muggle neighbors are close by, but far enough that our presence should go unnoticed. Gunfire might draw attention, however. There are some trees on the opposite side of the road, and the backyard is completely clear save for the shrubbery of the previous owners."

"Do you know how long it will take for the aurors or muggle police to respond?" He slipped on the thick dragon hide boots and started into the hall again, wanting another look at the map before he left.

"The aurors are estimated at half an hour, the muggles at forty-five minutes."

"Inform Jean-Claude that I'll be joining in the assault." Jasper ordered as he turned away and stepped into the shadows of the room. He had little doubt that this was, in fact, Taurus, but he was also well aware that this situation seemed almost too convenient, as if the hunter wanted them to come. An ambush? No, Jasper shook his head. All the records before had reported that each Zodiac member, except Gemini, worked solitarily. Taurus wouldn't let anyone else on his playground.

His feet touched down with a whisper on soft grass, and he stepped from behind a tree. He paused as a thought occurred to him. What if all of the Zodiac members weren't so arrogant as the first two had been, or at least this one? Would Taurus really be fool enough to lure others in… as some sort of challenge? He shook his head again. There had to be more to it than that. Even if Taurus was so stupid as to draw them in, he had to have some kind of plan to deal with multiple enemies He stepped up to the road to get a good look at the house with the moon shining down on it. Abandoned was a good description, though an understatement by far. It was old; leaning to one side with weathered wood siding that had faded to a dark gray. The roof bowed inwards and was almost entirely stripped of shingles. Shadowed forms slowly moved up with one of the number stepping up next to him.

"My Lord." The other greeted with a nod of his head in place of a more formal bow. "Are we to move?"

Jasper was about to answer when he spotted a flash of movement in the window. He looked at it with narrowed eyes. Something didn't sit right. The night was silent and still, with no animals or wind to rustle the trees. As cliché as it sounded, it was too quiet. He took another look around himself, at the dry grass and the old wood. "How many of your group are from the Ignis Clan?" He asked softly.

"None, My Lord." The other answered just as quietly.

"Signal them back at least thirty meters."

The vampire did so, and the dark forms faded back once more, though they still held the place surrounded. "What now, My Lord?"

"Watch."

Fire leapt to life in Jasper hand and he slung it over the distance to the house. It lit near instantly, with the fire jumping and creeping up the decrepit sides with a decided 'whooshing' noise. The faintest scent of gasoline reached Jasper's nose, and he knew he had been right. What a clever trap, if he hadn't shown and instead just ordered them in, it was likely that all of them would have died. The front door crumbled down and Taurus appeared in the doorway, looking straight at him. Jasper barely recognized the fact that the hunter was raising a pair of automatic weapons in his general directions before he grabbed the vampire next to him and disappeared into the shadows. They stepped back out a few trees behind where they were before.

"Tell your men to circle. Try herding him into the trees. I doubt that his power is so accurate as to pinpoint a location from a distance."

"Yes, My Lord." The vampire only gave a small hand gesture, and the others immediately started.

It didn't take much to draw the hunter closer to the wooded area, as it didn't seem like he was particularly worried about being out numbered or his plan having fallen through. Bullets smattered against the trees as Taurus aimed wildly around him, the vampires avoiding the shots by dipping behind thick trunks or launching high into the branches. When the automatics clicked empty, he simply tossed them away and pulled out a pair of handguns from underarm holsters. He was more cautious now, taking far more time and careful aim before firing. A harsh frown split over his face, and he spun around slowly, trying to keep an eye on all sides.

"Tighten up." Jasper's order was soft, but he knew that they had heard him.

He knew the moment Taurus realized that he had gotten in over his head by the way his shoulder's tightened and his stance changed. The vampires had him, and they all knew it. Now, whether he could be taken down without loss or injury was another matter all together. They moved around the hunter like a pack of wolves, slipping from shadow to shadow and easily avoiding Taurus' sights. Jasper waited only a little longer before ordering them to move in. It was obvious someone was going to get hurt, he just hoped it was none of them.

The ten vampires that made up the assault team flew from the trees in an irregular pattern, their own weapons drawn and all of them firing as they moved forward. Shot scattered across his chest and, while the man flinched, he didn't falter. He fired twice, taking down one of the others, but that was as far as he got when his arms and legs were almost shredded by opposing fire. He collapsed to the ground, and the assault team moved fast to disarm him. Jasper stood over him and stared down.

"We, my dear vampire hunter, are going to have a chat."

The man sneered and spit at him. Jasper only gave him a bored look before pressing a booted foot heavily into his wounded shoulder. Taurus tensed and his face curled into a cringe, but he didn't make a single noise. Then Jasper passed him a smile that almost made him cringe as much as his wounds had.

"We're going to have so much fun together." He promised and turned to the others around him. "Bind him tightly and bring him back to Azkaban." Taurus was nowhere near as dangerous as that girl, one of the Gemini twins, had been, and Jasper was fully willing to take the risk of interrogation with this one.

~..~

Jasper was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest as he watched another blow strike across Taurus' face and snap his head harshly to the side. The vampire hunter spat at the vampire that had hit him. The vampire backhanded him and his head whipped in the opposite direction. Taurus hadn't spoken a single word since he'd been taken, and a question hadn't been asked for the last twenty minutes. The hunter was such a defiant thing. He held up a hand and the other vampire backed off for a moment.

"Things will go much better for you if you just cooperate." Jasper commented blandly, stepping away from his position. "Answer a few questions and this will all be over."

Taurus sneered at him and still said nothing. Jasper frowned and waved the other forward again with a small gesture. The other struck a heavy hit to the solar plexus hard enough to rock the chair he was chained to backwards. The movement had a pendant slipping out of Taurus' shirt and Jasper ripped it away.

"Oh, I recognize this." He hissed pleasantly. "But where ever did you get the power to charge it?"

It was an ancient design formed from soft malleable metal. He'd seen it only once before, belonging to a nomadic people that traversed all of Europe and parts of Asia. The group had been purely magical and should have been entirely wiped out 2000 years ago. Apparently someone with the bloodline was left, and he doubted that the hunter before him was it. The magic around it tasted nothing like the aura surrounding the man in front of him.

"A charm to hide from the senses of the immortals." He turned and grabbed Taurus' face harshly. "Now, tell me where you got this!"

Taurus laughed darkly but still didn't speak. Jasper's lips curled up, exposing white teeth in a snarl. He looked over to the other vampire. "Do what you want, but he needs to stay alive and able to speak. Try to avoid trauma that will damage the brain."

"Yes, My Lord."

Taurus' head jerked just slightly at being designated a Lord, and Jasper caught the movement. "And also, you are granted the use of lethal force should it prove necessary. He isn't to leave this island alive."

"Understood."

He spared the hunter one last look. "I'll be seeing you soon." He left the room and closed the door tightly behind him only to have Sirius nearly plow him over. He grabbed up the animagus, pulling him up so that he was only touching the floor by the tips of his toes. "How many times do I have to tell you? No. Running. In. The. Halls!" He shook his godfather to punctuate each word.

Then he sighed and abruptly released his hold, and Sirius fell backwards onto the floor with an 'ouch'. He shot his godson a dirty look but took to his feet quickly.

"I have decided," He announced dramatically. "I shall join your ranks as an undead leech!"

Jasper didn't bother even attempting resist the urge to smack him over the head. "If that's your answer, then don't insult your new comrades all in the same breath."

"I do have a question though."

Jasper nodded and waved him on to continue as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Really, Sirius had the most inconvenient timing with these things.

"Will I get to keep my magic?"

"It's fifty-fifty. Neville and I have ours, but Luna doesn't have any wizard magic anymore. There's a chance you will and a chance you won't." Jasper gave a slight pause as a thought occurred and went on to say, "Find a vampire to turn you, one of the higher ups." There wasn't any way he would be turning Sirius himself. The thought of having to feed Sirius was a little… icky.

"Huh? Why is that?"

Jasper just grimaced and shook his head. "No. Just no. I'll be gone for a time, don't look for me."

Sirius nodded somewhat dumbly and watched him go.

~..~

"Ollivander!" Jasper called as he appeared within the man's workroom. It was late, but not so late that the man should be sleeping. There was a shuffle from the second floor and feet hurried down the stairs. He didn't have to wait long for the other to appear.

"Ah, it's you. To what do I owe the pleasure this time? More poisons? Or may it be obscure magical artifacts this time around?"

Jasper chuckled and held up the pendant. "The latter, actually. I was wondering what you could tell me about this. My knowledge of it is limited strictly to the lore of the culture it came from."

Ollivander took the pendant by the chain it was strung on and brought it for a closer look. He made a small sound of surprise when he realized what he was looking at. "Where did you come across this?"

"One of my enemies had it on his person. It was why we had such a hard time pinning down his location."

"It does more than that. This one has been altered. Hmm…" Ollivander turned away and moved further into his workroom, his hand passing over a few vials perched on the shelves before drawing away with one. Jasper watched closely as the man tapped prodded and dripped things over the piece of formed metal. He didn't understand the results, but there were obviously some as the other made a noise of some surprise.

"Curious." Ollivander muttered, picking up a small hammer and hitting it once with gentle force.

"What?"

"Originally, as I'm sure you know, this was meant as an artifact to hide from the senses of those considered immortal. This one, however, pulls up a negation field."

"What does that mean?"

"It stops not only your kind's senses, but also magic that is in external force. Such as spellfire."

"I do have a question about that. If this can hide the wearer from my senses, then how could I, and others, fight him."

"Knowing the wearer is there can break the charm. A fault of the magic." Ollivander shrugged and turned another vial upon the piece. "The alteration only made this weakness worse."

Jasper moved up to the workbench and looked down at the trinket, his fingers drumming a rhythm as he thought. "If I wanted to break the charm, but didn't know where the person was, how would I do that?"

"A large enough force of wild magic should overload it, wizard magic if directed properly should drain it, and a large enough group of people should override the 'invisibility' aspect."

Jasper frowned. None of those were really applicable considering the next one he wanted to go after. "My target is hiding in the forbidden forest. None of your suggestions are really prudent considering."

Ollivander seemed to hesitate for a time before speaking. "I once knew the general of an army. He led his troupes against a force that had gone to ground in a forest under orders of his liege. They were subject to ambushes and guerrilla tactics, archers hidden in the high branches. Eventually they had only one option open to them, and the general took it knowing that if the group of rebels weren't exterminated, it would be his head next."

"They won?"

"Indeed." He answered with a solemn nod.

"How?"

There was something infinitely sad in Ollivander's eyes, but he still answered. "They burned the forest down."

"Thank you, Ollivander." Jasper nodded and turned away, knowing exactly what forest Ollivander had been speaking of. The Dead Forest was a stretch of trees that lived up to its namesake. Blackened trunks and barren land stretched for over ten kilometers. It had been such for over a hundred years and still nothing grew. Folk tales spoke of a curse on the land, laid by the rebel leader to spite the king who would slay them. It appeared the tale had some credence.

"Take care how you kill, Lord Anguis, for there may yet be consequences never before seen." He said sternly in warning.

"I hope not, and I hope that my decision will not reflect that general's."

"Aye." Ollivander agreed as Jasper vanished from his shop, leaving the pendant in his possession.

~..~

_A/N: So here's the next chapter, and my thanks to all those who left reviews. Naturally, there's the thanks the to my beta. Unfortunately, the next chapter (and those after) aren't going to be coming out as quick – if you can call my update rate quick – as I'm now working more. Sadly, that means less time to write when everything stacks up. Sorry, all._


	25. Chapter 25

_**Scarlet Monster and Creeping Shades**_

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_Be bloody, bold, and resolute._

_~ Shakespeare_

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Dumbledore stood at the window in his office looking out over the grounds of the castle and on to the forest beyond that. His withering hand, blackened by curse and rot, was held tightly to his chest by his other hand. Though, really, it wasn't just his hand anymore. It had progressed all the way up to the shoulder, and he was very well aware of how much time he still had left. A few scant months, and if he didn't come up with a plan of action soon, the Dark would win. Tom would win, and the world would be lost to his madness. A frown pulled his face and he clutched his arm tighter, feeling pain run though the limb. He moved away from the window to take place behind his desk, thoughts turning to Harry, Voldemort, and empty prophecies.

The boy was still alive, that much he was sure of, and if he were to be honest with himself, there had always been that small part (_it could have been denial_) that believed that Harry had never died. Though with that, he was now at a bit of a loss. If he truly had been alive all this time, then what had he been doing and what was his true connection with Jasper Cole. Cole had claimed Harry dead, implied that he was the one who had turned The-Boy-Who-Lived. Dumbledore didn't believe it so much anymore. He was suddenly overcome by the feeling that he was missing the obvious once again, that feeling that Harry, Jasper, and the rest of the vampires were tied together in such a way that he should have realized the answer by now.

He growled lowly in frustration and leaned back heavily in his chair. It was like having all the pieces to the puzzle but not knowing what the picture was supposed to be. Eventually it would all come together, but it was more than just a tedious and frustrating venture. Tedious, however, was something he had always been good a dealing with. Patience was more than just a virtue, and that had won him more battles than any one but he would ever be aware of. That was one thing he had over any possible competition, he could outwait any possible enemy, but he supposed that was also in the past.

Albus tossed another look to his arm. There wouldn't be any more waiting because he could no longer afford it. He would have to act first and strike quickly.

~..~

It had been exactly forty-eight hours since Jasper had left Taurus to the tender mercies of an expert torturer. He hadn't set foot in the room, or even walked down that hall, within that time frame. It could have been cruel, if the man wanted to talk since the interrogator wouldn't stop until he returned, but then Jasper suspected the hunter was a bit more resilient than that. So he had stayed away, not even thinking twice about his decision. No, it wasn't that he was regretting. It was the fact that he had actually _consented_ to having _Sirius Black_ become a vampire even after knowing what kind of man his godfather was.

Jasper buried his head in his hands, pushing harshly against his temples as he did so and trying, in vain, to ignore Sirius running up and down the hall, his face smeared in blood, and cackling maniacally. Luna was watching, laughing softly and clapping her hands in glee. Jasper had to wonder if he somehow had managed to create his own Bellatrix at times. He threw disgusted look a Sirius as he started quoting muggle vampire movies. This was such a mistake. The next time Sirius passed by him, Jasper grabbed the man and drug him forwards.

"I swear to any god that will listen, if you don't shut the hell up, I will not only kill you, but I will dismember you before doing so."

Sirius went so utterly still that he felt like a statue. "Sorry." He managed to get out, and Jasper dropped him abruptly and walked away. "Shit he's scary." Luna's laugh echoed down the hall.

Jasper breathed a relived sigh once he was far enough away. What had he been thinking? No, never mind, he _hadn't_ been thinking. He shook his head and hoped that the vampire race would survive Sirius. However, now that the distraction was done with, he could begin his plans for the evening – mainly that meant visiting his little prisoner. He stepped into the room in time to see Taurus jerk back and hiss in pain as a blood curse swept over him, one that turned the blood sitting outside of the body into a form of minor acid. Enough to cause burns, but not enough to melt the flesh.

"How is our guest?"

"Stubborn, My Lord." The other answered and was clearly frustrated. "I apologize for my-"

Jasper waved away the apology. It wasn't the vampire's fault. Taurus had clearly been trained for similar situations no doubt. He turned to the hunter, head cocked to the side with his hair falling gently in his face. He swept it back as his head rose. "Tell me, Taurus, did you ever play with fire as a child?"

The hunter looked confused but managed a sneer with his bloody and cut face. Jasper continued as if his silence didn't matter. "I bet you did as you grew older, not by choice, but practicality." Fire came to life in his hands. "So, I could bet that you know what it is like to watch a human be burned alive. I simply must know if you will make a sound when it is you who is being burned."

His look was so sinister that he could see the flinch in Taurus' eyes. His lips curved into a smile and he cast the flames at Taurus' feet. It took serpent shape and curled up the man's calf. The cloth that made up his pants seared into skin and was quickly burnt away. Taurus struggled in the chair, his jaw clenched tightly as his spine bowed in pain. Jasper looked on curiously before turning to look at the other who was still in the room.

"He is _able_ to talk, correct? As in, physically capable?"

"Yes, My Lord. I checked myself when he made so little noise."

"Unusual that one can be so quiet. Burns are most painful." He mused aloud and thew another ball of flame to the floor that also quickly formed into a snake and curled around the opposite leg. Taurus' breath left him in a quick gasp as both crept up onto his thighs.

"I told you last time we spoke, it shall all end if you tell me what I want to know."

"Fuck off you filthy animal." Taurus hissed, and Jasper gave a small smile. At least he had finally spoken, though Jasper wasn't in any way willing to forgive the fact the man had called him an animal. He backhanded the hunter.

"Don't be rude now. Guests should always be gracious."

"Piss off."

Taurus spat at him. Jasper tisked, reached forward, and broke a finger. One of the hunter's arms tensed tightly against his bonds, trying to get free and strike him. Jasper chuckled lowly and grasped a burnt leg, squeezing. Taurus did cry out this time. Jasper hadn't been lying when he claimed that burns were the most painful of wounds, mostly because of the nerves in the skin and the horribly slow healing factor without aid.

"Tell me," Jasper squeezed the limb tighter. "Tell me of the charms, of Sagittarius, of Libra."

Taurus snarled and jerked forward. Jasper sighed just slightly. It figured that Taurus would be difficult. Hunters and their loyalty to the extermination of a species... He tapped his fingers along Taurus' legs for a moment before suddenly burying his nails in the burnt flesh and tearing it open. A scream was rent from the captive, and he twisted in the chair, fighting to get away. Fluid, not blood, leaked out from the new wounds and made Jasper curl his face in disgust as he used a spell to clean it off his hands. That was… nasty. A low, dark chuckle drew him from his thoughts.

"You'll never win." Taurus hissed. "You may learn about the charms and how to defeat them, and you could find and kill Sagittarius, but you'll never defeat Libra." His lips pulled back over his blood covered teeth, and he gave something that was caught between a smile and a snarl. "I look forward to seeing you in hell, monster."

Jasper stood and raised his hand to backhand the hunter once again, and that's when he saw a rush of blood flood from Taurus' mouth. "Determined son of a bitch." He said in begrudging admiration. Taurus had bit clean through his tongue, and it wouldn't take long to bleed to death. Though Jasper wasn't about to let the man walk out on his on terms. He would be ending the hunter's life, and not even the hunter himself would take that from him. He tilted Taurus' head up so that their eyes were meeting and wrapped his hand around his throat. His claws dug in just behind the esophagus and he ripped it clean away.

He could have stopped the bleeding of the tongue, saved Taurus' life, but he didn't see the point in it. One way or another, Taurus would have managed suicide, and more effort would have been spent keeping him alive than getting information. It would have been a waste. He would just have to find out about Sagittarius and Libra on his own. That was unfortunate, he'd been looking forward to a few easy days.

~..~

Lucius made a pained noise as he righted himself from his position on the floor. Merlin, his back ached. He had to use the wall as a brace to gain his feet

"Good to see you awake. You were unconscious far long than I expected."

The voice startled Lucius, and he jerked around, peering into the darkness of the room. He couldn't see anything. "Who are you?"

There was a soft snort. "Who I am isn't really a concern. What, on the other hand, is. I'm your new master."

Lucius scoffed and pushed away from the wall. "Malfoy's have no master."

"You just bow and scrape to Voldemort for fun then? I very much doubt it, but either way, you belong to me now. There is no choice."

"I will have your head." Lucius promised darkly, a sneer curling his lips.

He got a tittering laugh in return. "So arrogant you Malfoys are." Jasper stepped forward into view of the other. "You are incapable of harming me. The bonds that tie you are complete and total. There is nothing you can do. Would you like me to prove it?"

The blonde's sneer stretched further, making it look more like a grimace than any thing.

"I guess I shall." A smile turned Jasper's lips. "Sit."

Before Lucius realized it, he was sitting on the floor. He blinked down at his body. "What have you done?" He whispered in horror.

"I've made you a slave. If you cannot be trusted to be a willing follower of your Lord, you will be an unwilling servant to my will. It was foolish to think you could escape. If it wouldn't be detrimental to my goals, I would use you and Severus as examples."

"Severus?" He asked. After that woman had appeared in Snape's stead, he had assumed that the potion's master was dead and buried somewhere.

"Oh yes." Jasper nodded. "He follows order so well, don't you, Severus?"

Snape stepped out from the shadows just the same as Jasper had before. Lucius could see the way his body shook in anger, the way his jaw clenched as he answered. "Yes, Master."

Jasper gave that tittering laugh again. "He hates it so much; that he must obey some one be believes inferior. It enrages him, you know. I think you and he are going to be quite similar in that regard. Now, come along, there are things to be done before you return to your normal life. Wouldn't want anyone to notice your absence, especially when I may have use for you yet, my little part incubus."

~..~

Dumbledore was in the Hog's Head, stuffed away in a shadowy corner and waiting silently for another to arrive. He didn't have to wait long, and he instantly recognized the same build and cloak that had been on the informant from before. The man sat across from him, not even causing a creak in the rickety chair. He didn't speak at first, simply holding out a piece of paper with a location scrawled across its front.

"What is this?" Albus asked as he took it.

"Voldemort's present location."

Dumbledore jerked back just a bit, stunned at the information he held in his hand. No one had been able to find the man's home, and Albus had suspected that a fidelis charm might have been modified to hide its location. The fact that the address was written lent credence to that idea but…

"Fidelis?"

"No, but the wards are indeed impressive." He wouldn't admit to having trouble moving past them, even as a vampire.

"May I ask as to how you acquired this?" Dumbledore questioned, attempting not to sound suspicious.

"I have many talents."

Albus didn't frown, but it was a close thing. "Is this all?"

The cloaked man nodded and stood, making his way to the exit without looking back. He already knew that the Headmaster would act on the information as quickly as he could, and he couldn't wait to see the chaos he had wrought. The Revel hadn't been nearly as satisfying as he had thought it would be. There hadn't been enough death to make it worth while – on either side – but he had high hopes for this plan, if not for his intended targets, then the aurors. It was going to be a brilliant and bloody night.

~..~

"Jasper, you must stop this!" Luna said sharply, grasping his wrist in a tight hold and pulling him from his chair. Eyes that were usually gold now held a large amount of red swirling in the iris, and it was only his control that kept the bloodlust from overwhelming him. "At least take the potion!" She waved a vial at him.

He smacked it out of her hand letting it fall and break on the floor and pulled his arm free before taking his seat again. He snarled at her quietly and turned away, determined to ignore her continued presence.

"It's affecting you ability to function. You can't go on in this way." She tried, hoping to make him see reason. Why wouldn't he feed? She had thought he had dealt with it, otherwise she would have been on top of him about his starving himself. "Is this about Tom?"

The top of his desk split down the middle. "No, this isn't about fucking Tom."

"Is it about you _not_ fucking Tom?" She muttered far to quietly for him to hear. Luna shook her head. "Then was is it?" She asked with uncommon seriousness. "Explain it because no one else understands."

"I don't feel like dealing with this now. Get out."

All the muscles in her body tensed in anger. "I will do as I will."

"You will do as I make you." He stood, hands clenched into fists, and took a step forward.

Under normal circumstances, Luna wouldn't have been intimidated, but with his scarlet eyes staring down at her and the power that swirled just beneath the surface, she could admit to being cowed. This wasn't a person she knew standing before her. This was some one who was like violence in motion just looking for an excuse to lash out. She took a small step back and looked away from his eyes. Jasper needed help, and the only one who could help him didn't want anything to do with him.

"This isn't over." She promised as she spun away and left. If Jasper wasn't willing to cooperate, then Luna would go to the one person that could force his compliance. Whether Voldemort wanted to or not, he _was_ going to help. She was going to make sure of that.

Jasper didn't move until she was gone, and when he did, it was only to collapse back into his chair. He sighed and buried a hand in his hair. Damn it all. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone? As long as he was getting what needed to be done, done, then what was the problem? He leaned back and kicked the broken desk in front of him, scooting it across the floor almost five feet. So what if he was a little reclusive now? So what if the only one he spoke with voluntarily was Jean-Claude? And so damn what if he didn't feel like feeding?

"Screw it all." He growled, fixed the desk, and pulled some papers in front of him. There was too much to be done to worry about what Luna was, most assuredly, planning. The little wretch, he thought with fondness, adored him for some reason and worried over his health. He shook his head and focused back on the papers.

~..~

"He's getting worse." Sirius said.

"I know." Neville answered softly.

"We should do something."

"Yeah."

"Like get him drunk."

"Alri – what?" Neville paused and shook his head. "I hate to tell you this, but getting drunk is not a solution."

"Works for me!" Sirius stated cheerfully and swung around a bottle of half empty absinthe that Neville could have sworn materialized from thin air.

Neville's hand shot out and grabbed the bottle and tossed it so that it broke on the stone floor. "No, it doesn't work for you. You just think it does, which isn't actually the same thing."

Sirius frowned, mock seriously, and with a stern tone, reprimanded the other. "Now listen here, you're supposed to respect your elders and take their advice to heart. I only tell you these things for your own personal betterment."

"Not when they're coming from a senile person."

"I'm not senile!" He sputtered indignantly.

"Old man. All wrinkly and gray."

"I'm not wrinkly and gray!"

"Bet you dye your hair, like _Malfoy_."

"I – I do not!" He practically shrieked. When did this become pick on Sirius day?

"Probably have to use those potions to help with the ladies…" Neville said, and mused silently on when he had become so bold.

"I'll have you know that I don't need any help in _getting it up_!"

"Next thing you know, you'll be offering candy to random children."

"Wh - what?"

"We'll have to call you Dumbledore, of course."

"I don't think so!" He jumped up from his chair. Neville ignored him and continued on.

"Bright colored robes and those creepy grandpa smiles… we have to make sure every one knows you aren't a pedoph-" A hand slapped over his mouth, cutting off the word.

"I – I'm just going to go find Luna or Jean-Claude… or anyone really. You stay here." Sirius nodded, once, quite firmly and walked away.

Neville grinned once the door had closed behind the other's retreating form. At least he had diverted Sirius from his 'get Jasper drunk' idea. He'd known that scenario wouldn't end well and quickly worked to put it from Sirius' mind. It worked efficiently if he did say so himself. Though Sirius may well become afraid of getting old after this… and, naturally, the man would forget he was a vampire and –therefore- ageless.

~..~

"You want us to what?" Jean-Claude asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"I know you aren't deaf." Jasper stated flatly.

"I just don't understand, My Lord." Jean-Claude said hurriedly, attempting to keep Jasper's mood from delving into the realm of hostile.

"We've already determined that Sagittarius is using the Forbidden Forest. I want a group sent to seal it closed."

That was a horrible idea. The creatures of the forest wouldn't stand for being confined. Of course, he wasn't exactly going to point this out right now, as Jasper seemed to care little for those who may fight back. A different approach would probably gain more favor. "But the charms-"

"Won't be a problem." Jasper cut him off. "This is what I want done." He handed a small list over to the blond. "The first innermost ward draws upon wild magic. It will overpower the charms and negate them. The second wall will be purely defensive, allowing nothing with physical mass to pass through it. The third traps magic from crossing, and the final wall will detain anyone trying to cross through the opposite way."

"How will this help us capture the hunter, My Lord?"

"It will allow us to force the compliance of the forest dwellers. They hand over the hunter and the walls come down. They fail to do so and I'll do something nasty."

"Nasty?" He asked with vague amusement.

Jasper waved his hand. "I'll think of something suitable in time, don't worry about it. Suffice to say that it won't be overly pleasant."

"No, I suspect it wouldn't." Jean-Claude agreed. He fought down a sigh. It didn't seem like there was, at present, any way that he could talk his Lord out of this without some violence. It would just be easier to agree for now. "It shall be done at once, My Lord."

"Jean-Claude."

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Be wary of anything that sets you with an uneasy feeling. Even I could not sense him."

"What would you recommend?" Jean-Claude asked softly. This was the first time he had heard more than the 'I was shot in the forest so stay away from it.' It more than just concerned him.

Jasper paused a moment to think before answering. "If one of you falls leave immediately. Do not attempt rescue. Work as quickly as possible. Other than that, you can't do anything."

"How many can I take with me?"

"Six should be enough, and try not to get them or yourself killed."

"Before I go, may I ask a question?"

"Of course." Jasper nodded.

Jean-Claude gathered himself, took a breath, and asked a question that would very likely anger his Lord. "How can you stand the pain of the bloodlust, resist the call that reduces others into little more than animals?"

Jasper's jaw clenched, but he reigned himself in before he lashed out without cause. The blonde's question was valid. Other vampires, when having gone without blood as long as he had, become little more than savage creatures driven by the most basic need to feed. Jasper, however, had only become short-tempered, easier to tempt to violence, and lost his golden eyes to crimson ones. The changes were minor in comparison.

"I… I'm quite a bit different from the average vampire." Jasper answered slowly, thinking over his words carefully. "More so than anyone really understands."

"I don't understand. Different in what way?"

Jasper turned his head to the side a bit more and touched upon that space where the Mother had left her gift. She'd done more than just take away his ability to regret and feel sadness; she'd also left something behind. This would be the first time he deliberately drew it up. A charcoal gray mark bloomed over his cheek, and he heard Jean-Claude's gasp of surprise. Of course, he doubted that the Mother had anything to do with his ability to resist the bloodlust, but it was the most believable option he had. Not to mention the safest explanation since it was far more likely it had something to do with his unusual abilities that were born of the Anguis line.

"That – that mark."

Jasper ran a hand over it. "Yes. It was given to me."

"You met the Mother." There was horrified fascination in his voice, and Jasper had to wonder what stories had been passed among the vampires to instill such fear in them. Then again, after seeing the Mother himself, it would have been stupid to not fear her. She was monstrous.

"Indeed."

"Thank you for answering my question." Jean-Claude said and made a hasty disappearance from the room.

Jasper smiled grimly to himself. It seemed that the mark was answer enough, even if he didn't know it's true meaning. At least he didn't have to answer questions he didn't know the answers to.

~..~

She walked as if she owned the place, with a casual gate and a careless glance to the Death Eaters that scrambled from her path. It wouldn't be long before Voldemort knew of her presence here, if he wasn't aware already, but she was looking forward to her meeting with him. There were whispers from the birds that he had gone mad again in a relatively short amount of time, and conversations with the mad were always interesting. It was disappointing though that she wasn't here to examine his insanity. She had a mission, and Jasper's future could very well depend on how this turned out. She pushed open heavy oak doors with little effort and took a seat at the desk Voldemort was sitting at. He seemed to be so dumbfounded by her sheer audacity that it took a few minutes to respond.

"Crucio."

The curse fell to a complete stop before it could hit her, hovering mid air and bobbing gently as if it were floating in water, and then in turned and slowly meandered away, disappearing through the wall. Luna just smiled quirkily and tilted her head, daring him to try another. The Unforgivables, while unable to be blocked, were re-routable if one had her special talent with animal magic.

"You and I shall have a talk, Mr. Voldemort."

His grip tightened on his wand and the thin rod groaned in protest. A low hiss slipped passed his lips, but he leaned back in his chair and gestured for her to continue. He didn't like it, hated it in fact, but there were few options when dealing with people that he couldn't kill, maim, or torture (much). "What is it that you want?"

"Jasper needs help." She stated bluntly and the only thing she got in response to that statement was an angry look and a wand raised in her direction again.

"Get out."

Luna frowned at him and stood, leaning half way over the desk and ignoring the press of wood against her throat. Her eyes shifted to serpent ones, and she stared down at him. "You _are_ going to do this for me." Her words were little more than a softly whispered hiss. "The next time you see him, you are going to be calm, rational, and you are going to let him explain the situation."

"I don't _have_ to do anything." He spat. She thought he sounded like a child.

"You will, or I will do things to you that you can't even imagine."

"Empty threats." He sneered. Even he knew that Jasper would not allow his vampires to harm him. Jasper would make an example of them.

She smiled, knowing where his thoughts had led. " He could only protect you so much as he is, and by the time he realizes, it will be all over. None of ours, save him, hold anything for you, and if your death will bring him back to the leader he needs to be, so be it."

"He would kill you."

"I doubt it, but if that were true, that is a small price to pay." She straightened and let her fingers dance across the surface of the desk. "Jasper is ours and we – all of us – would do anything for him, to keep him healthy, sane, and happy." Her light blue eyes seemed to darken. "Two out of three is acceptable, and eventually, he would be happy again without you."

She stepped back and headed for the door, pausing as she turned the handle to look back over her shoulder at him. "You have one chance, after that… well, we'll see, won't we?"

~..~

"Jasper!"

"Not now, Luna!" He hissed, not even looking at her. This was getting tiresome.

"Jasper just lis-"

"Leave, Luna."

"They're attacking Voldemort's manor!" She shouted as she slammed her hand down in front of him.

"What?" He jerked back and stared at her.

"The ministry. Some one told his location. They are there now!"

Jasper growled and shadowed to his room, slipping into battle robes and hanging his sword at his hip. Some one, or rather, a lot of some ones, was going to die today. He turned to look at Luna who had shown in his room, knowing where he was heading. "Send reinforcements." He ordered and flitted away to Voldemort's manor.

It was chaos when he arrived. Flashes of spells zipped across the field between the two forces as it got smaller and smaller. A section of the manor had crumbled, the wall given way, and the face of the home blackened by spellfire. A line of aurors was pushing back defending Death Eaters. Jasper could sense more in the building, their magical signatures rushing around, disappearing, reappearing, and starting over once again. They were emptying the place, he realized. Everything of importance was being moved to another stronghold, and that meant that Voldemort was prepared to lose his manor home should it come to that. What a shame, he really did like this manor after all.

Jasper knew the moment Voldemort stepped out onto the battlefield. There was a silence that seemed deafening for a moment that was broken by one of the ministry dog's screaming that you-know-who had appeared and they were all going to die. Jasper huffed in amusement. While the Death Eaters were no where near the level of their master when it came to power and skill, that didn't make them any less lethal. That wasn't even counting his presence. He could rival Tom in violence, brutality, ability, and magical prowess. They hadn't even seen him, an enemy at their backs, yet. It almost made it seem too easy.

He drew his blade slowly, relishing in the sound of the metal scraping across the sheath. A smile curled his lips and he charged forward. Light burned across the steel making it flash and accentuate the spray of blood that came when he cut down a man. Scarlet spattered over his face and darkened spots on his battle robes. Bloodlust colored eyes brightened and he laughed. It had been a while since he'd been in the midst of a battle where the blood ran free and his enemies dying screams were the loudest sound. He'd missed it. Missed this.

Jasper swung widely, hamstringing three aurors with a single stroke. An enraged bark drew him from his revelry, and he turned in time to see a searing white spell be launched at Voldemort from the end of Dumbledore's wand. Jasper scowled and decapitated another auror; he hadn't felt the old man arrive. Then he heard something he never expected to hear, Tom crying out in pain. He could smell the delicious tang of Tom's blood even with the distance that separated them. Fury ripped through him, pulling up magic and sending it out in uncontrolled waves. Fucking old fool! How dare he!

The Mother's mark lit on his face and the shadows gained life. Black snakes, wolves, and jungle cats burst onto the field, tearing and ripping apart all that they touched. Shadowed tentacles, seeming to curl up from nothing, twisted around legs and arms, rendering the attacking force immobile and an easy target for Death Eaters. His eyes met the Headmasters, and Jasper swore that the man would be the next to go. Vampire hunters be damned, Dumbledore was next.

Albus nearly flinched away from the look that was sent to him. The sheer malicious intent and hatred that lingered there sent an ominous feeling twisting down his spine, and for the first time in his long life, he felt that it was a mistake to get involved in a battle with Voldemort. The vampire was across the way, remaining aurors and Death Eaters some how dividing them, and still he felt that the undead being was the larger threat at the moment. He found out why quickly enough when Jasper disappeared from his position to show on his other side, putting Dumbledore between himself and Voldemort. Knowing a bad situation when he was in one, Dumbledore disapperated.

Jasper held his place as Dumbledore escaped, knowing that he wouldn't have killed the doddering man this night anyway. Instead he stared resolutely at Tom, form covered in blood and boldly declaring that now, this night, he wouldn't just walk away. It was time to deal with this, and no curses, nor Tom's rage, was going to drive him away. There was a barely perceptible nod, and Jasper spotted just a hint of Tom's old reasonableness (_if Tom could ever had been considered reasonable_) within Voldemort's madness. But first… Jasper turned back to the ministry forces, watching as many were attempting escape. Some would succeed, he knew and leveled his sword, but others wouldn't be so luck. That feral, and slightly insane, smile curled his lips once again and he leapt back into the fray.

~..~

The Traitor scowled darkly. Really, humans were so worthless nowadays. Especially the so-called 'good guys.' They couldn't even kill more than a handful of the Dark Lord's men, and he had practically handed the Death Eaters to them on a silver platter. Things had seemed to start off well enough, the wards around the manor shattering and the Death Eaters caught unaware and forced to retreat and regroup back in the manor. He'd thought that would be the end of the battle. The Death Eaters had been trapped within, surrounded with no escape, and Voldemort stuck with them. The speed that they'd organized a strategy and pushed back the incoming aurors was ridiculous.

Everything had spiraled down from there. Jasper had shown up, flanking the auror forces and cutting through them like they'd been standing still. Momentarily, he had high hopes with Dumbledore's arrival on the scene, only to have the old fool run the moment Jasper had set a dark look upon him. Admittedly, the sheer promise of death in that gaze had been intimidating, but the man hadn't even attempted to continue on. The Traitor grit his teeth and marched into a small pub in Knockturn Alley. At least there had been a lot of blood, though he'd left the same time Dumbledore had, not willing to tempt fate into revealing his presence. It wasn't time yet.

He took a seat at one of the shadowed tables in the back, gesturing to the barmaid to bring him his usual order, a glass of blood spiked with vodka. A man set across from him, looking severely out of place with his light brown hair and lavender eyes. Most, or at least those with the androgynous appeal this one held, covered themselves with hoods and cloaks when wandering into Knockturn at so late an hour. There was something though that sent his senses on edge and warning bells ringing loudly in his head. Who ever this was, he was dangerous.

"Who're you?"

"Someone who shares your common interest."

The Traitor sneered. "Give me a name, pretty boy."

"Call me Libra." The other said with a smile.

~..~

Voldemort was waiting in the parlor of his newest acquisition – a smaller manor seized from a lesser family – when Jasper walked in. Their eyes met for a moment before Voldemort turned away and headed off to another room. Jasper followed without a word, already expecting a long, drawn out discussion on secrets that had been kept. He took a seat within one of the larger rooms in the house just as Voldemort did the same.

"You have only this chance, explain yourself."

"You already understand why I didn't tell you." Jasper said, crossing his legs and folding his arms, looking almost petulant.

"I want to hear you say it."

"It would have been different between us, had you known. I was chasing Hogwart's days."

"I had told you to leave those in the past."

"You did, but I'm not so inclined to listen." He answered with a slight, bitter smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Having what we had, and then having that change because I suddenly gained power – I couldn't have that."

"You lied."

"I never lied. Not once."

"It is still deception." Voldemort hissed.

"A little hypocritical of you to be angry about that." Jasper pointed out blandly. "I only failed to tell a secret of mine. Surely I don't know everything about you."

"You looked like such a monster tonight." Voldemort diverted suddenly. "Painted scarlet with living shadows doing your bidding." He looked Jasper up and down, easily scenting the blood and tasting the dark magic that clung to his body. It was impossible to not be attracted right now, despite how angry he was, and while he was not a forgiving man, exceptions could be made in this case. Images of Jasper and he sprawled over a bed flashed through his head. Yes, exceptions could be _very_ good.

He was avoiding the matter, Jasper knew, but he allowed it, already knowing that he was forgiven if the heat in Tom's eyes was anything to go by. Jasper gave one of those easy smiles. "Does that turn you on?" He purred.

Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment, a bemused look gracing his face before it was suddenly gone, and he leaned forward in his chair. "_Perhaps if you beg prettily enough._" He hissed.

Jasper slithered gracefully off his chair and slunk over to Voldemort, his easy smile turning into something wicked. "I think we can negotiate."

The sultry stare was quickly gone from Voldemort's eyes and his hand, quick as a snake, struck forward to tangle in Jasper's hair, pulling harshly. "You are still being punished, Jasper. Do not think that you are forgiven so easily. There won't be any negotiation."

Jasper pouted playfully but nodded. He'd never expected for Tom to forget and forgive, but he was entirely willing to comply with whatever punishment Voldemort saw fit to give. Tom was a surprisingly kinky bugger when mad. Then, Jasper smirked, raising his hand to his face and licking along the back of it, cleaning away the blood. He stretched backwards, bracing himself up on his arms and splaying like a bloody prize, his crimson robe slipping open just enough to show that he wore no shirt beneath it. He may have to beg, for a while, but before the night was out, their positions would be reversed and Tom would be the one pleading.

~..~

_**A/N:**__ Been a while since I updated, sadly. This chapter isn't beta'd so please, excuse the mistakes. I only went over it once with a quick read since I wanted to upload it. Now on to the other things… Thank you to everyone who has left reviews. I appreciate it. A lot. Especially those who show fantastic support for my continuation of this fic. _

_I've got the next chapter written up, mostly, and have already sent that off to my beta. Hopefully that will be up soon, but I really have no idea when. Thanks again, all._


	26. Chapter 26

_**Archer in the Black Forest**_

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Jasper lay awake in Tom's entirely-to-large bed completely sated, an arm folded up behind his head an the other hand playing idly with a lock of Tom's hair. The other was out cold, completely exhausted from earlier activities – ones in which simply the thought of caused a completely goofy smile to stretch across Jasper's face. It had been a very, very good night, and he was looking for a repeat sometime in the near future. But then again, he was nothing if not a realist and realized the likeliness of that happening. Tom was still pissed off, Dumbledore and his order of idiots were still around, and then he had to deal with the vampire hunters that remained. It was looking to keep him busy for a time. Damn it.

He couldn't wait until this whole debacle was over and the Dark ruled the world. Everything would go smoother from there. Tom would keep the wizards in tight reign, allowing the creatures to filter back into society, and he would hold the vampires under control to keep them from stirring up trouble in the new era. Anyone who disagreed… well, they were dealt with easily enough. Nothing puts down a rebellion like a little death and the need for self-preservation. If he considered it though, that meant that a good majority of light wizards (and Gryffindors) were going to die out fairly fast. It was only unfortunate because then the world would lose a constant source of amusement. Disappointing, really.

Gingerly, Jasper slipped from the bed, careful not to jostle the other in any way and wake him. He moved to the bathroom for a quick shower and, when done with that, headed down to the more frequented areas of the home. Most of the Death Eaters were still awake and stashing things in their appropriate places, books to the library or dark objects to that room that was heavily warded. He watched them scurry about – very much like hamsters – for a time before moving on. He moved onto the temporary holding room for prisoners (_as this home didn't have a dungeon_) and contentedly fed for the first time in, what felt like, months.

He stepped back from the drained prisoner, one who was just barely clinging to life, a pale gray and breathing so shallowly that one might think they were dead. Jasper turned away without second thought. He hadn't realized how terrible he'd been feeling. He felt quicker now, lighter, and didn't feel the subtle aches in his bones that came from lack of blood. It was wondrous. He gave a pleased sigh and headed towards the parlor where he could take a seat and plan his next moves.

"Are you feeling well now, Jasper?" Luna's voice right next to his ear almost had him clutching his chest in surprise.

"Don't do that again." He stated with a calm that was only skin deep. He'd been so lost in his musings that he hadn't noticed her slip into the room.

"You look better." She said, ignoring him.

Jasper sighed and shook his head. "Is there a reason you're here?"

"I wanted to check on you. We've cleaned away the bodies from in front of the other manor, and there are vampire wards isolating the house from the ministry and Dumbledore."

He nodded. "How's the progress with Jean-Claude's team?"

"They had to incorporate muggle technology to have the plan work so it will take a little longer." She cocked her head to the side, listening. "Also, it seems you'll likely have more help from the acromantula than the centaurs."

"Why is that?"

"I'm unsure as of yet, but it won't be long before you know."

"Thank you, Luna."

She smiled at him, knowing that it wasn't just for what she'd just told him. "You're welcome."

~..~

It happened purely by coincidence. An accident that, really, was so happenstance there shouldn't have been any reason for it to be save for fate itself. Albus stared down at the two photos on his desk. The first was in a Hogwarts yearbook, a picture with Jasper Cole sitting among the highest ranked students of the year. It was a photo he hadn't believed existed until he'd come across it. The second was of Harry, the boy, young, with a soft face though there was no smile. Dumbledore was immediately shocked motionless when the pictures had ended up side by side among his paperwork.

It was in the cheekbones or maybe in the shape of the eyes or line of the jaw. Either way, if he'd just cut Jasper's hair shorter and switched-out the eye color for Harry's… It shouldn't have been possible. No one had ever been able to travel so far back in time, and attempting to do so was virtually a death sentence because of the possible paradoxes. It couldn't have possibly been true, but it was the only explanation for what he was seeing right now. Harry Potter was Jasper Cole. Harry was with his parents' murder – likely intimately, and … Merlin… this was very, very bad.

A nearly hysterical chuckle worked up his throat and he buried his head in his hands. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling and let his arms fall limply at his sides. Damn. He'd been outplayed, and by his own weapon too. Harry was supposed to have been Voldemort's downfall, and now it looked like he was playing for the other team. He was going to kill his previous allies and old friends, and it didn't look like he was going to have any remorse in doing so.

"Albus the Slyther – goodness, what's wrong?" Minerva asked stepping quickly up to the desk at the devastated look on his face.

"It's all hopeless." He said in a rare bout of complete honesty, his voice a mix between laughter and sobs.

"What is?"

He pushed the pictures over to the opposite side of the desk and watched as she picked them up. "All this time I had assumed that Jasper Cole was someone who'd stolen Harry away, kept him hidden and safe until it was time to hand him over to Voldemort. It seems I was wrong. Jasper Cole never truly existed."

"But that's…" She trailed off, obviously coming to the same impossibility he had as she realized the similarity in the photos.

"I'd always known he was a special boy, one to make the impossible, possible and beat-out all the odds. I just never knew that it wouldn't be for the good of mankind."

"Then that _was_ Harry that we held in the infirmary. He truly was a vampire."

Dumbledore gave a wan smile. "The boy always held the chance of becoming one. His mother had been a vampire as well."

"Lily? How?"

"I never discovered." He shook his head. "You know what this means don't you?" He asked in a cynic's voice. "It means that Tom has finally won."

"You can't give up!" She said stubbornly and placing the pictures down with a firm hand. "The students need you. The Order needs you. The _Light_ needs you!"

"I never told you, or anyone." He mused aloud. "Everything, all the plans and late nights, all the direction and carefully steered conversations, all the hints… it was all for nothing, more so now then before. I had hoped for another chance. I quick grasp on the reigns to pull it under my control. All futile."

Minerva listened quietly as he rambled on, a feeling of growing dread welling within her. She had the distinct impression that it was about to get a whole lot worse, worse in a way that was irreparable.

"There was a prophecy."

Ice rushed through her veins as she sensed where this was heading. Dear Merlin, let it not be what she thought. Divination wasn't something she held much stock in, but even she was aware of the power of prophecies.

"The wording isn't important, you understand, but the point… well, the only one who could have defeated Voldemort for good, sent him on to the next life, was Harry. As for Harry," He pointed to the photograph. "He's apparently made his choice, hasn't he?"

"But prophecies can't be broken."

"So I thought as well." He nodded. "It seemed the world was wrong, though it _is_ Harry we are talking about." He laughed dryly.

"But then, that means that we've already-" She cut herself off.

"Lost?" He asked with that same dry tone. "I believe so."

Her usually stern face slipped into a horrible scowl. "This isn't something to sound so flippant about." She snapped. "This – this is the end of the world!"

"Now, now." He said gently, moving his hands in a placating manner. "Nothing so dramatic, just the subjugation of the human race." He hadn't known that a scowl that severe could deepen so much more.

"That is not humorous Albus!"

"No, I'm afraid it isn't, but there is nothing else to be done. I won't live to see such an outcome, however." He said, looking pointedly towards his arm. "There is little that I can do, and without someone to take the reigns, I fear that we are fast approaching dark times indeed."

It was when Minerva finally left him to his own thoughts that he broke out in laughter. He could accede to a job well done. Never let it be said when he didn't know when to bow out and admit defeat. He laughed until his ribs hurt and tears poured down his aged face. He laughed until humor gave way to rage and he devastated his office.

"Well played, Harry, but does Tom know?"

~..~

It felt entirely to surreal, Severus Snape mused as he sauntered through the Dark Lord's new base of operation. He honestly had never expected to get off Azkaban and away from the vampires no matter what his Master claimed to the contrary, but here he was, once again making potions at the Dark Lord's whims. Nothing had been said other than a quickly whispered conversation between Voldemort and the vampire, and then he'd been sent on his way with no more instruction than to acquaint himself with the lab at the east end of the manor. He was going to do so, of course, but he desperately wanted to speak with Lucius, the only other who understood the full weight of his new position because they shared it.

He'd found the blond easily, somehow knowing exactly where he needed to go to locate the other. Lucius was staring, almost forlornly, out a window looking over the sprawling estate. There was a defeated slump in his posture that Severus understood far to well. Pride was something the both understood, and having their freedom, their everything really, stripped from them and to be reduced to little more than a vampire's chattel was infinitely damaging. More so than either Dumbledore or Voldemort could have thought up.

"Lucius."

Gray eyes darted to him and then back again, and the man raised a gloved hand to rest on the frame of the window. "Severus. I would ask if you were well, but I know the answer." He said in his usual aristocratic voice, one that didn't betray what his body was obviously saying.

"I imagine you are much the same." Snape said quietly.

A grim smile stretched Lucius' features. "I imagine so." He gave a slow nod. "Tell me, what plans does our Master deign for us?" He asked, and the pure apathy in the word 'master' was more telling than anything else.

"I don't know."

"Then why have you searched me out?" He finally turned fully away from the window to look at the potion master.

There was a long pause before Snape finally answered. "We have been friends for a great many years, Lucius, forgive me if I am concerned for you well-being."

Malfoy gave a harsh laugh that quickly turned into a scoff. "I know you Severus Snape, you care for no one else but yourself and your dead little mudblood." Lucius sneered, referring to Lily Evans and Snape's well-known infatuation with her.

Severus lashed out with a fist, catching Lucius in the jaw and forcing him into a stumble. "You've managed to become even more of a bastard. Here I thought you were able to progress no further. Perhaps you should take your father's name now." He turned and strode away, his black robes snapping behind him.

The words cut as they were meant to, and Lucius thought that they almost hurt worse than the blow dealt him. Abraxas Malfoy was a monstrous man, worse than the Dark Lord in some ways, but luckily, held no where near the power. The first time Lucius remembered laughing joyfully was when he learned that his father had died. He staggered away down the hall, vision tilting just a bit, but taking the pain as deserved and doing nothing to numb it.

"Malfoy's certainly have a way with words." The voice just behind him had Lucius coming to an absolute stop, freezing in place. "What ever could you have said to rile him so, I wonder?"

A shadow flashed around his still form and Lucius had the impression of a great cat with long, wicked teeth. The sudden temptation to run from the danger was nearly overwhelming, as the hair on the back of his neck raised and things seemed to creep from the corners. He'd seen this before, on the battlefield at the last manor, seen what it could do and wanted no part in it.

"Severus," Jasper started. "Is, quite honestly, one of the few humans I can stand to interact with, I would appreciate it if you didn't make that change for I can guarantee that the punishment will not come out of his hide. Understood?" He asked, impressing the will of the slave bond.

"Yes." Lucius hissed between clenched teeth, hating that he was forced to do so. He would get revenge for this disgrace, he swore to himself. Either he or the vampire was going to die before this was all over, and if the chance happened upon him, he was going to make it as painful and humiliating as he possibly could.

"Good boy." Jasper mock purred, disappearing into the shadows and taking the shade formed animals with him, leaving Lucius alone in the hall.

The blond made a frustrated noise, but changed direction towards the library. He had a particularly vicious idea and, though it very well could be distasteful, it was perfect. After all, a slave was no long a slave when they were in control, and if he could find a way to awaken his incubi heritage (that didn't involve fathers and sons) it shouldn't be to hard to pull the vampire under a demon's thrall. Vengeance would be his. It was past time for that _animal_ to be put in his place.

~..~

The quiet of the forest was suffocating, but none of the vampires were so fooled by the silence to be drawn into it. Danger lurked behind the trees in the form of wild creatures that were angered at their sudden imprisonment. Spiders hung low in the bows of the greater trees and centaur hooves clacked against roots and stones. This was the closest the two species would ever come in agreement. Neither liked being held captive, no matter that it was their home they were confined to.

Jean-Claude approached with all the grace his species gave him, giving away nothing of the fact that he thought this a supremely horrible idea. One does not anger those intelligent enough to get revenge. At least, that was his policy. He stopped just outside the newly erected wards and waited for the inhabitants to fall silent before speaking.

"We've brought wards around the forest. They will allow nothing to pass, not animals, plants, or even air."

"What is it you want, life drinker?" One of the centaurs asked, back legs moving uneasily across the ground.

"There is one in your forest, one that doesn't belong there. We want them."

There was restlessness among them, centaurs and spiders both. They knew of whom he spoke. The spiders chattered, but another centaur stepped up. "We hand none of ours over to your kind."

"They are not true centaur." Jean-Claude stated with utter certainty. No full born centaur would ever become a vampire hunter.

"Even half-lings belong to us should the stars choose it. The goal is noble and the magic true as any."

"You would let all of yours die for one among you then?"

The centaurs shifted restlessly once again, but all gave their agreement. Jean-Claude nodded and turned to look into the trees.

"And are the acromantula so willing to die for the same cause?"

Spider mandibles clicked, and they scurried closer to the barriers making angry noises. No, they would not sacrifice themselves for some lowly horses. Their whole number turned and disappeared into the forest. One of the centaurs make a sharp noise, and many of them vanishing among the trees as well, no doubt going to hide the half-centaur and protect him or her from the acromantula. It was sure to be a vicious fight. The small group of vampires shifted silently behind Jean-Claude, tasting the aggression that suddenly saturated the air. The blond only glanced at them before sending them back to their posts, monitoring the muggle equipment that had been used to anchor the barrier.

~..~

When Voldemort had woken from a deep sleep, he felt an amazing clarity in his mind, and immediately he'd set to work on a series of plans that had fallen to the wayside during his period of distraction. It was only now, looking back, that he'd realized how far-gone he had been. Hopefully however, it wouldn't take long to get everything back on track and repair the damage he had inadvertently made while in that state of mind, and while working on that, he had to figure out a personal stand on a certain vampire who was far more then he had claimed to be. All of which he was still pissed off about, by the way.

Jasper may have been telling the truth about not lying, but he wasn't a man to stand for omission of important facts. The next time they spoke, he would make it clear that secrets of such magnitude wouldn't be tolerated any longer. Unfortunately, such an order would likely demand reciprocation, and though he was hesitant, he could see the clear gain in it. It was against his very nature as a Dark Lord to be honest about anything, but Jasper had always been a worthy ally it matters of war and politics. He supposed that it was only fair to come to an agreement that would honor that standing between them. Even more than that, was how to balance the vampire he knew with the Lord Anguis persona and maintain something that would offend neither lover nor leader. If he wasn't used to such things, he would have shoved it to the side as being far to complicated to deal with today.

And while thoughts were on the vampire, that brought up the fact that Jasper was no where to be seen within the new base. Voldemort had expected, when he woke, to find the other joyfully tormenting his minions once again before making a number of innuendoes then getting down to what needed to be done. That Jasper was gone entirely didn't sit well with him so soon after what had occurred, not to mention he wouldn't have minded taking out his frustration in a more physical manner once again. He was drawn from his musing by a knock on the door and one of his men entering.

"You summoned me, my Lord?" Lucius asked, falling to a knee as he entered the study.

"I want a full report on the incident at the manor including how the aurors came about the location of it."

"It will be done." He assured in a smooth voice.

"Also, I want information on the security at the ministry, the number of aurors remaining, and the days where the majority of departments are going to be vacant."

"My Lord?" Lucius questioned.

"The ministry will be mine soon enough. I have grown tired of waiting and attempting to take it without notice. It is time for a more direct approach, wouldn't you say so?"

"I agree, my Lord." He nodded, knowing better than to even hint otherwise.

"Go now, and do not fail me. Send Severus to me on your way out as well."

Lucius nodded and left. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Severus so soon, especially when he held no doubt as to the potion master's current mood.

~..~

It was, perhaps, fifteen minutes later when Severus appeared before Voldemort, still irritated though he hid it well. Voldemort, for his part, gestured him to the straight-backed across from him, waiting until the other sat before addressing the reason of calling him here.

"I have been informed that you were, at one time, a spy for that Old Fool, that you had betrayed me and the cause. I hope you understand the consequences of such actions even though you have returned."

"Yes, my Lord." He nodded, knowing that, really, he didn't have another option. There was a slim hope that the Dark Lord would be merciful enough to end his life though. Death was better than servitude.

"You also understand that you will also be punished for your return not being entirely voluntary?"

"Yes." He nodded again.

"It is unfortunate that I have been asked to spare you life, though the assurance that you can never betray the Dark is alluring. I've also been requested to spare your sanity and damage to your hands and arms for the fact that you do an adequate job of brewing potions."

Severus wanted to sneer. _Adequate_? He was far more than merely adequate. Youngest potions master in recorded history with enough well known potions to his name that people would kill to hire him were it not for his unfortunate record. He refrained from even making the slightest movement, though.

"So, in light of the fact that my more favored methods, and those of others, is restricted by the logic presented, I've decided that your punishment shall have to be especially creative." The smile on Voldemort's face was one Severus had only seen a handful of time, usually just before testing a newly made curse on some helpless muggle. "We shall come back to that, however. Now, tell me of Azkaban and Anguis' position there."

Severus told all he could without any hesitation, hoping that there would be something he knew that would give the Dark Lord cause enough to want the vampire dead.

"I see." Voldemort said with a smirk dancing at the edges of his lips. "Jasper is far more clever than I had given him credit for. Azkaban truly does serve good purpose. To think I handed away an amazing stronghold without even realizing what I had."

That he spoke of being tricked with such fondness had Severus wondering what, exactly, the relationship was between the two. Initially he had though that the vampire was another fanatic – much like Bellatrix. Later, he had assumed the two were allies simply because Jasper was leader of the vampires. Now, it sounded more like… Snape shook away the thought. Voldemort took no lovers, not even among his own people, and he refused to let the thought that the vampire may be an exception pass through his mind. But… that look. That look meant more than follower or ally or even confidant. Not love, for Voldemort was incapable of such a feeling, but there was _something_.

"Now, onto your reprisal." Voldemort stood and moved around his desk. "Do try not to make to much of a mess, hm?"

~..~

Libra lounged in the throne, body splayed almost awkwardly over the stone arms. He had to give credit where it was due because, for a foul bloodsucking demon, that vampire had some very, very nice ideas. Wasn't it a beautiful thing to kill the Lord Anguis is the previous manor of his lover? There was some sort of irony in that he would die in a place that belonged to the man who would kill the vampire if he ever knew the whole truth. Unfortunately, he had to wait.

The treacherous vampire had requested a hold of two days – days in which things could be put into order for the Lord's death. Libra had complied easily enough, knowing that the short wait would benefit him more than not. Time to prepare – though he didn't need it – was nothing to scoff at. Anticipation curled in him at the thought of the coming battle. The last of the Anguis line, and with his death, it would very likely be the end of the Clan vampires. They were, unknowingly, dependent on their lords, and the only reason they had survived so long without one, was the coming of the one who lead them now.

Just the thought of their devastated faces and their screams as their magic destabilized and they died sent euphoria through him. The end of the Clan Vampires and, basically, the threat of the vampire altogether was going to be something glorious indeed. And to think, their fall was orchestrated by one of their own, one that had no idea of the truth in their blood and magic despite his long un-life. He would enjoy spelling it out to the other once the time came and the Lord lay dead at his feet.

~..~

The Forbidden Forest wasn't so quiet any longer, and the screams that often broke the silence weren't something to be soon forgotten. Screams that weren't even remotely human. The vampires could only listen as the battle between the two prominent species within the forest took place. The twang of a bowstring and the dull, fleshy sounds of an arrow finding its mark were barely whispers against the angry chatters and roars of the acromantula. It was all delightfully vicious.

And just outside the wards, not even a foot away, Jean-Claude stood with a frown just barely pulling at his lips. Everything was contained chaos, for now at least. It wouldn't last. The vampire was well aware of that. These kinds of things had a tendency to spiral and then fly completely out of control, unable to be grasped, let alone stopped. Still, the small slim piece of optimist in him was hoping for the best. However, he was mostly a pessimist at heart and knew the chances of 'the best' happening. Slim to none, that is.

He actually flinched as a high keen was abruptly cut short with the finality that only death could provide. It seemed that one side had lost another fighter. How unfortunate. He was drawn back to the fighting when a mournful howl broke between the factions. It seemed another had joined the game. There were few werewolves in this area, and even fewer that chose the forest over human accommodations, and it seemed that those few were going to take part in the fray now that the full moon had risen.

"How is the situation coming?"

Jean-Claude turned to Jasper. "The fighting has started, and the acromantula are trying to capture the hunter. The centaurs, though, are getting in the way, claiming the slayer as one of the herd."

Jasper snapped around to face the forest, feeling the tingling energy of a lycanthrope. "Werewolves? I had thought they would be long gone from this forest by now? Especially with so much activity from us around here."

"You act like they are intelligent." Jean-Claude snorted in disdain. "They are just animals."

Jasper huffed and shook his head. "I know better, and some humans think the same of us." When Jean-Claude said nothing, he sighed and turned away towards the castle. "I've things to do, and when the acromantula do capture Sagittarius, kill him."

Jean-Claude was just about to respond when another vampire raced across the school grounds towards them, and skidded to a stop just in front of Jasper, holding out a muggle envelope. "My Lord, a message."

Jasper took it with no small amount of curiosity. He knew of no one that would send him a letter, let alone a letter with muggle connotations. He tore it open and took out the small card inside. His name was scrawled across one side, and on the opposite was a date and familiar location with only a small set of scales as the signature. He understood it though. Libra had arranged a meeting. The note burst into flames, and he waved away the messenger.

"Make sure that the archer dies." He said and turned towards the castle, vanishing just as quickly as he had come.

Jean-Claude turned back to the forest just in time to see an arrow launch from within the trees and crack against the wards, sending vibrant sparks raining from the area of impact. A form quickly followed, slipping out from further in. Jean-Claude watched as their target appeared before them, far from the fighting and far from how the vampire had predicted he would look like.

The half-centaur was light and graceful on his feet, like all centaurs were despite their bodies and sizes. He was tall with long hair that had beads strung through and clicked together gently like a windchime. There was something inherently _wrong_ about him though. It was too subtle to pinpoint, but it was almost like there was an arch or unnatural twist to his body that made him look malformed. It didn't seem to effect his ability to move, however, as the other raised the bow again with a surprising speed and launched another arrow.

This one made no more progress than the last, though the shaft of the arrow did splinter. Sagittarius frowned and trotted over to the wards, placing a hand on them and pressing. He almost looked confused. "This is not vampire magic."

"No," Jean-Claude smirked. "It isn't."

"You refuse to face me in battle? How very much like a vampire." Sagittarius said with a very centaur like snort.

The blond brushed away the words, and turned toward the more immediate matter: the death of one more of the Zodiac. "So, half-ling, do the stars show your coming death? Can you even read them?" He asked with a mocking lilt.

"I shall show you what the stars say of your future, parasite!" Sagittarius snarled.

"No, you won't." Jean-Claude assured, sensing the werewolves draw closer and feeling their feral gaze from just beyond the trees. "You won't get more than a few steps."

The vampire smiled, flashing fangs, as the hunter spun around with the bow automatically raising in the movement. The pair of wolves flew from the forest in tandem, coordinated beautifully and distanced enough that hitting them both would be impossible. One of them fell to an arrow, but by the time Sagittarius turned to the second, it was to late. A gaping maw crunched around a forearm, snapping the bones and dragging the hunter to the ground. Even he, who found werewolves little more than rabid dogs, had to admire the sheer physical strength lycan's possessed when transformed. Sagittarius was no small creature, easily twice the height and weight of the animal that held him pinned to the ground and was savagely mauling him – and enjoying it by the look of things.

"Poor little hunter," He cooed, ignoring the other's screams of pain. "Such an ignoble way to go."

He watched with quiet glee as blood spattered across the ground and pieces of flesh and cloth decorated the grass. The half-ling had long since stopped moving, and Jean-Claude found a new respect for the beast that had done the job. They were still little better than dogs, but perhaps, they were no longer useless. He raised his voice to something that wasn't quite a yell, knowing the others would hear him.

"Take down the wards, it is time to return home. Two of you come and remove the… remains." There wasn't much left to consider it a _body_.

~..~

Jasper moved through the school with purpose, easily evading the pathetic patrols that circled through the old castle. He only had one destination in mind, one goal for the night, and he intended to see it done. Before the sun had risen, Albus Dumbledore would be dead, and there would be no two ways about it. He slipped up to the office, bypassing the gargoyle and the unopened spiral staircase. It took barely a moment to lay the necessary stones and sow the circle that drained magic from the room. With the magic stripped away, he immediately became visible, thrown from the shadows and into plain view, standing just behind one of the many chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

Albus jolted when he felt the magic suddenly being sucked out of the room, and was even more surprised to find he had a visitor just suddenly appear. He wasn't, however, shocked to know the identity of that person. He had, honestly, expected this visit since discovering Jasper's true name. "Hello, Harry."

Jasper brushed his long hair back over his shoulder, piercing the headmaster with brilliant gold eyes. "Not for a long time, Albus." He said, moving around to take the chair. He wouldn't mind chatting with the man a bit before he died.

~..~

A/N: This chapter isn't beta'd, so please excuse my mistakes. I'll put the corrected one up eventually. (Probably…). Thank you to all that reviewed! Love opening my e-mail and getting stuff that says people enjoy what I'm writing. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Lol. Originally, I had wanted Dumbledore to find out that Harry was Jasper in a face-to-face, but it just didn't work that way, so I hope this wasn't too disappointing. Now, onto reviewer responses. (Haven't done those in a while.)

Azrael: _You're right about the rut, but I think I've managed to plan a way out of that for the most part, so hopefully it works or makes it less obvious. As for Alejandro, he was going to be the traitor originally simply by virtue of me getting rid of him so soon and then I stopped and thought ' that's a little to obvious, so no.'. The Zodiac was mainly because I was enjoying butchering the Order far too much for them to draw out the story. So you're right on that count, but that's why I'm killing them off fairly fast as well since I don't particularly like them. __Thank you __for the criticism though. If there were more like you (and not flamers) I think there would be a number of better authors. I don't think I can fix all the plot holes in this story, but I'll watch for them if I write another._

Shinigami Clara:_ Good guess Sagittarius is half centaur. As for the other Generals, I've started making an effort to have them come into a play a bit more, though in minor roles._


	27. Chapter 27

_Note: Slash scene present and –hopefully- isolated by **(L) .** _

_**Libra, the Scales, the Balance**_

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_Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting._

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"Not for a very long time." He repeated with a small sense of loss. He half missed 'Harry' when he truly thought about it. Harry had been innocent despite the things going on in his life and, while he wouldn't trade what he had now for that, he could acknowledge the loss.

"You betrayed us all." Dumbledore suddenly started. "You turned your back on all the people who love you."

Jasper smiled slightly, wistfully. "Oh, Dumbledore...," He sighed. "I may not know what love is, but I know what I was given is not it. My kind, we do not love or become loved."

"Vampires." Albus said as if he understood.

"Sacrifices." Jasper answered. "You do not love a sacrifice."

"Harry you were more than just-"

"It's Jasper now, as you are well aware."

"You will always be Harry." The old man stated with some determination.

"Harry was an innocent human boy for all the death he had seen. Most of him had remained untouched by the sheer cruelty of this world. Harry died; I didn't lie about that. I cannot be that boy anymore."

"I never meant..." He trailed off, looking so sad, and Jasper actually had to fight down a surge of rage at that look. He knew that it was a false face.

"Insincerity doesn't become you." He ground out. "You knew exactly what you were doing. Planned it all, hadn't you?"

"No, I-"

"Do not lie to me, not now. Your treachery has long since been discovered and I shall never again fall under your control."

"I never tried to control you." He denied.

"Oh? All the things you've done and would do, given the chance... I suppose it was all my imagination. I'm sure that, at the right time, you would have told the truth of my mother and gifted me my birthright."

"You must understand," Dumbledore implored. "You were the Savior of us all! That you were vampire would ruin everything."

"And that was far more important than any happiness of mine, even when there was so little around me. It wouldn't have ruined everything, Albus, it would have ruined _you_ and _your_ plans."

"It was all for-"

"Spare me your philosophies." Jasper snorted. "You've been so caught up in the past, proving Gellert Grindelwald wrong, that you don't see the damage you do to those around you. You placate them, telling them that their hurts are worth something, but we both know the truth of that. Their pain means less than nothing to the world around them, and all they are good for is furthering yourself and your goals."

Jasper shook his head, hair falling into his face, and looked out the window. "It's somewhat ironic that it was you that turned me away from all those I had known. I would have died for any of them, or you, without thought back then. If you'd been honest, I still would have followed you around like a good, loyal dog. The tame vampire." He said the last wryly. "Even your compulsions failed to keep my complete trust in you after such betrayal."

"Please, believe that I never meant you harm."

"I believe that you believe that." Jasper turned back to look at that elderly man. "I believe that you looked at me, saw me overcome all the wrongs and hurt, and thought that it couldn't have been that bad, that if it was, I couldn't have possibly withstood. I was just a child, with a child's strength, and you used that to skew the world around you."

It seemed that, with his assurances getting nowhere, Dumbledore decided to switch gears. "You would condemn everyone to life under a tyrant? You would subject them to slavery, torture, and laws that would persecute them based only on their blood?"

Jasper wanted to tell the old man, in no uncertain terms, that pleading to his humanity was a useless endeavor. He'd killed off that last bit of him some time ago, and it wasn't something he missed. As the leader of the vampires, humanity would have been a handicap. "I subject them to nothing. All of them, every man, woman, and child, has two legs – they should stand up and use them."

"You would send children to fight?"

"You did." Jasper almost expected the other to jerk back at that, perhaps even look slightly ashamed, but he didn't. Dumbledore stared at him resolutely.

"I did what I had to do."

"And so do I."

"You are trying to take over the world."

"I'm trying to save those who follow me. Loyalty should be rewarded with safety, not sacrifice."

"You've become a monster." He accused.

Jasper barked a laugh, loud enough to actually startle the man. "Yes. Yes, I am, and quite proud to be so." He grinned. "Monsters aren't so bad, you know, when they are honest about what they are. No one comes to me expecting the niceties."

Albus looked positively horrified, but then he seemed to remember what it was that was sitting before him. He couldn't expect a vampire to retain human qualities. "Your parents would be ashamed of what you've become."

Jasper pulled his lips back in a parody of a smile. Sometime before, back when he'd been Harry, hearing that would have driven him to grief and guilt. Now, though… "What care I for the thoughts of the dead?"

"They're your family."

"They're dead." He repeated again, flatly. "I never got the chance to know them, and while I'm grateful for the life they gave me, I cannot live my life by them." Then he sighed. "You might as well give it up, I'm never going to belong to the Light again."

"_Tainted._" Dumbledore suddenly spat, and Jasper chortled in glee.

"Finally we come down to it!"

"Dirty, disgusting, foul-" He seemed ready to start a tangent until Jasper cut him off, catching a whiff of something strange.

"_Dark_, and I suggest you stick to that lest I cut that tongue from your mouth." He hissed. "I'm not hesitant to take my anger out in a purely physical manner, and you should remember that, Albus Dumbledore."

Sickness, but deeper than that black, withered arm. It went beyond the skin. Jasper almost laughed again. The scent of madness hung around Albus like a cloak. It was a wonder he hadn't noticed it until now. It was a wonder that something so obvious had escaped everyone who surrounded him, but then, most really did only think of him as an eccentric old man.

"You've spit upon your Light heritage and doomed the world, and for what? When he discovers who you really are, he will kill you without thought."

"He's not going to find out."

"So sure?" Dumbledore asked mockingly. "There are some among you happy to witness your death at his hands."

"Ah yes, our little traitor. I had wondered if they had contacted you, but I doubt you know much more about them then I do."

Albus wasn't about to answer that, and Jasper didn't really expect him to. "You think you can hide it forever? You will always be Harry Potter to him."

Jasper snarled, and his grip on the arm of the chair became strong enough to splinter the wood. "Whatever you think to do, it will not work. What plans you had will end this night. I'll not allow you to see another day on this earth."

"You won't kill me." He stated with confidence that Jasper was sure he shouldn't have.

"Won't?" He questioned softly. "And how do you figure that?"

"You owe me your life, and you're honorable enough to hold to that."

Jasper chuckled gently, mockingly, and his lips curved from that snarl into something a bit more feral. "Owe you my life, do I? The only thing that I _owe_ you is years of torment, lies, and fake family. I know exactly what you've given me, and the only thing you could possibly ask of me is a quick death."

Jasper could feel Albus try to reach for his magic, attempt to pull it up and expel it in a wandless attack. It was a futile attempt. Nothing would come of it except weakening the old man further. Jasper was personally fine with that. The weaker he was, the less he would struggle when it came time to end all of this. Admittedly, it was also a bit disappointing that his death throws would be less as well. All too bad, really. It would have been amusing to watch him squirm.

The magic arced over Dumbledore, and then quickly dissipated, sucked away and thrown from the room. Dumbledore's body lurched forward, mouth opening with a shuddering gasp. "What?" The word came out as little more than a breathy whisper.

"You don't recognize it?" He asked with some surprise. "I had been sure that this was one of his earlier works."

"Who's?" Albus gasped out, still not able to gain his breath.

"Grindelwald's."

Dumbledore appeared more staggered by that than the magic having been pulled from him, and his already pale face whitened further. "His… works are… abominations."

Jasper couldn't argue with that. He'd seen the few records of experiments conducted with Gellert Grindelwald's authorization. Horrible things they were, vile and grotesque. Most had been performed on muggles and squibs though a number of magical creatures and wizards from the opposition had taken unwilling part.

"Most are, yes. I think they became worse after you abandoned him."

"I didn't… abandon him."

"I think he would argue." Jasper shrugged. "But this isn't what I am here for, and talking with you quickly grows tiresome. I'll grant you a moment to pray to whatever deity you believe in before I end you."

"I hope you don't expect me to go quietly." He finally gathered himself and climbed slowly to his feet.

"It would hardly be any fun if you did, but I removed your ability to fight me. There's nothing you can do." Jasper came to stand as well.

"Fawkes!" Dumbledore called on his phoenix, only to receive a pitiful warble and cry of apology. The man looked to his faithful companion to find the bird nearly falling off its golden perch, feathers dull and drooping.

"Your phoenix cannot help you. This circle affects him just as it does everything else, and since he was born of magic itself, it neutralizes him entirely."

Jasper looked over to the bird. Sad as it was that such a graceful and beautiful creature was brought so low, he couldn't say that he was sorry for it however. It was unfortunate that Fawkes was in the line of fire, but that was the way it was. The phoenix had chosen it's path, and now it had to face the consequences of those choices.

"What do you hope to gain by killing me like this? No one fears the jackal that kills only the wounded." Albus spat.

The vampire pursed his lips. He had to admit that when Albus was right, he was right. Dumbledore's death, for revenge sake, while satisfying, wouldn't give nearly enough impact on its own. It needed to be a little bit more, or else there would always be someone trying him and his ability. It was about sending an appropriate message: no one stood against him, and no one was untouchable. Considering all the things the old man had done, it deserved to be fairly gruesome as well.

"I think I'll take this opportunity to be creative, especially since you made such a good point." He stared at the headmaster with gold eyes alight with a hunger for pain. "I can't say as that I'm sorry to see you go."

It was long past his time anyway, Jasper thought to himself, if the scent of madness was an indication. He lunged forward, up and over the desk, easily shoving the man backwards and into his chair. It only took a few moments more for him to have Dumbledore's hands bound to the arms of the chair with scraps of the man's own robes.

"This won't repay everything you've ever done to me, but I can promise that it's a start." And with that, he set to work.

~..~

He had found it! Were it not for the fact that it would be unseemly to do so, he would have thrown up his hands and shouted with glee. He could already taste the freedom he would soon acquire, and the fact that that vampire wouldn't have any choice made it all the sweeter. The bastard that thought to subjugate him would soon find himself the one under control with no hope for escape. An incubus thrall was consuming, and Lucius intended to use it to its full extent. That creature wouldn't remember his own name by the time he was done. And the things he could make the vampire do… Oh the joy!

He slipped from the large library, the clicking of his cane marking his passing with a shrunken tome tucked inside his robe. It would take time to gather everything necessary, but he was a patient man. It would all be worth it in the end, and if he had calculated right –which he did of course- then the end would be within the week. Lucius turned abruptly, cutting into a passage that was hidden from sight by the angle of the walls, and headed down to the potion's laboratory. Severus wouldn't be pleased to see him by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn't likely to turn down his request either. He only gave a brisk knock on the door before stepping inside, finding the man standing over a simmering cauldron.

"Severus," He greeted. "I've a favor to ask." The other didn't turn, but Lucius knew he was listening. "I need a potion, the _Flama Cruentus_."

Snape jerked violently at the name. It wasn't the correct name for it, for that potion had no name, but more of a description. The _Bloodthirsty Flame_, as it was (roughly) called, was apt. It was a poison that, literally, created a flame inside the body to devour all the blood within. A gruesome and surprisingly slow way to go, from written accounts. "Taking your own life will likely only make him take your son into his service." And they both knew that Snape wasn't referring to Voldemort.

"I've need for it to work in conjunction with a spell."

"I'll make it." He said, glancing over shoulder for a brief second.

There was a pause before Lucius responded. "Thank you."

"Lucius," Severus called him as he turned to leave. "I hope you aren't planning to do anything foolish."

"Of course not, Severus." He assured and left.

Snape turned back to his cauldron, contemplating the decision of acceding to Lucius' request.

~..~

_**Dumbledore, Murdered!**_

The bold headline took up nearly a quarter of the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, and the article itself spanned just over two more despite the winding columns and small print. It may of well had been a special edition, as every other written part of the paper had delivered any story, history, and rumor that the authors could come up with about the famous Headmaster, even including his time spent with Nicholas Flamel. Hundreds of pictures, awards, and lists of accomplishments were interspersed between. It all could have been very tasteful, were it not for the long, drawn-out section detailing the state of the man's body when found. That being the case, Voldemort found it all to be an enjoyable read overall. It was as he was finishing up the main article that Jasper strode into the room with a near manic smile on his face and his dark magic dancing wildly around his body.

"Excited are we?" Voldemort asked with a pleased hiss in his voice.

Jasper's head snapped around so that their gazes met, and his eyes were practically glowing with glee. His smile curved impossibly wider as those eyes landed on the paper grasped in the Dark Lord's hand. "You've seen it then! Beautiful isn't it? Sadly, there wasn't an accompanying photo."

Voldemort gestured him closer with a wave of his hand. Jasper almost floated across the distance between them, still grinning widely. The vampire's giddiness had to be catching because Voldemort couldn't stop a small grin from curving his own lips. Dumbledore had always been a thorn in his side, even when he was a mere student, and now… Now he was gone. The meddling old fool was dead and there was no one left to stand in his way. The world was his for the taking, and it was all thanks to the vampire before him. Jasper dropped right into the Dark Lord's lap, straddling the most feared man in the world without hesitation.

"You're being very bold." Voldemort said even as he tangled his hands in Jasper long hair to hold him there. Jasper hummed his agreement, dipping his head and rubbing his cheek along against Voldemort's. "I suppose you've earned it. That and a _reward_?"

The vampire stilled instantly, his body literally vibrating with anticipation. Oh, if this was going in the direction he thought it was… He growled as the hands in his hair tightened and pulled, exposing the line of his throat. His own hands wrapped around the thick fabric of Voldemort's robes and pulled closer to the warmth of another body. Magic that had already been close to the surface tingled over his skin, wearing on his already thin control.

"Is that what you would like, Jasper?" He pulled harder, forcing Jasper's body backward into an arc and drawing forth a whimper. "I think I know what you want."

He drew his wand with a practiced move and flicked it twice. The first to seal his office, and the second to silence it. Jasper wasn't a submissive creature by nature. He was a controlled, dominant individual with a strong streak of independence and will, but there were times that he surrendered entirely. When he did, he was quite enthusiastic about it, and so was Voldemort if he was being honest. A submissive Jasper appealed to every aspect of Voldemort's sadistic characteristics.

_**(L)**_

Almost violently, he shoved the vampire from his lap. Jasper managed to, somehow, tumble gracefully to the floor and folded into a kneeling position, keeping his head bowed lowly.

"Strip."

He rose to his feet in one smooth motion, hands already pulling at his robes to let the material fall off his shoulders and pool around his feet. Jasper didn't bother to unbutton the shirt, choosing to instead cut through the threads with a sharp nail and parting the red silk with a shrug. He let his hands dance up his sides, peering up through thick eyelashes to see Voldemort's face and finding him enraptured by the path those hands were taking. The shirt soon joined the robes on the floor, and Jasper slid backwards to perch, almost lewdly, on the desk with his legs spread in invitation. Slowly he reached for the leather boots, running his hands down his thighs along the way, and fiddling with the silver buckles for only a moment before slowly peeling them away, and he was left with only the black, form fitting pants.

"Stop."

Jasper froze at the command, heat curling in him at the darkness in that voice. He watched with hooded eyes as Voldemort stood slowly from his chair, sauntering over to stand before him, pressed between his legs, only the heavy robes actually touching him. He could feel the warmth of Voldemort's body, smell the scent of dark magic and the soap Voldemort often used, and practically taste the man's skin already. It was in this moment of stillness that Jasper realized how much he had come to rely on Voldemort's presence for many aspects of his life. Including his happiness. The warm contentment he was feeling, however, disappeared in a flash as Voldemort leaned forward, crushing their lips together and devouring his mouth, and Jasper yielded totally to it.

Voldemort pressed him back. Papers and quills were clattered to the floor as they were pushed aside. Jasper wrapped his legs around Voldemort's waist. He moaned softly when his wrists were captured and pinned above his head. A hissed word had them tethered there, and Voldemort pulled away and stared down at him with burning crimson eyes.

"I'm going to hurt you, Jasper." He whispered hotly. "I'm going to make you bleed, and I'm going to enjoy it. _You_ are going to enjoy it."

He grasped Jasper's hips harshly, jerking him down until the vampire's arms were taut. He ran a hand over that smooth, pale chest, thinking of all the things he could possibly do to have it covered in his marks and splashes of blood. Slowly he leaned forward again, setting his teeth gently at the side of his throat. Jasper made a small gasping moan that escalated into a loud keening noise when Voldemort bit down hard enough to draw blood.

"Tell me everything you did to that old fool, Jasper." He pulled away just enough to say, rolling his hips to meet Jasper's thrust. Then, he paused thoughtfully. A better surface was needed, something that didn't leave the vampire supporting half his weight off Voldemort's body, but nothing so comfortable as a bed. Quickly he climbed the desk as well, kneeling on it, and drew his wand. A spell later and the surface expanded, more than large enough to be spread eagle – which was more than an idea.

"Tell me." He said, than hissed another spell that had Jasper's tether forming into two metallic serpents that spread his arms out to the corners. He was straddling Jasper this time, knees on either side of him and bracing himself with his hands as he leaned close.

Jasper's breath caught, and he strained against his bonds. He _needed_ to touch the other, but Voldemort made no move toward him, simply watched him struggle. Jasper knew what he wanted, but damn if he felt he didn't have time for it.

"Broke his jaw first." He answered, tilting his head as Voldemort moved back to his throat, nipping just slightly. "Crushed it with my bare hands."

Then Jasper arched as his pants were vanished and Voldemort dropped his entire weight on him. Voldemort shuddered. Just the thought of Jasper – face twisted in viciousness as he tore Albus apart piece by piece, covered himself in blood, fell into his darkest nature, and reveled in the fool's death – it was almost enough to make him finish then and there. As it was though… He sat back up, wordlessly summoning a dagger to his hand. "Continue."

"I burned his good arm. He tried not to scream; said he wouldn't give me the – Oh, Merlin!" He cut off abruptly as the dagger left a shallow cut around his nipple. Voldemort took it, and the cut, into his mouth and Jasper writhed as much as he could, held as he was. The dagger was moving again, not cutting, but pressing enough to emphasize the sharp point. His body bucked up again, rubbing desperately against Voldemort's to get even a little bit of the touch he really wanted.

"Keep talking, or I'll keep you on the edge for the rest of the night." Voldemort threatened, and Jasper was well aware that he would do it, too.

Bastard.

"My shadows crawled inside him." He shivered as a feather light touch barely brushed his arousal. "They shifted his organs a-around." He stuttered when the cool edge of the knife had followed the previous caress. Then it was gone to circle over his inner thigh and back up to his chest. "Constricted his heart and lungs. He made delicious noises then."

"I heard there was a lot of blood." He said in an offhand manner, his hand poised over Jasper's length, fully prepared to draw some 'delicious noises' from his own captive.

"I ripped his ribcage open." He said and had to muffle a shriek of pleasure when he was gripped and stroked in all the right ways.

Voldemort watched his face and the myriad of emotions that flitted across the vampire's face. It was almost entrancing the way those expressions changed. Lust, need, desperation, and a cycle of more. Around it went, but when he felt the body beneath him tighten and quiver like a bowstring, he cruelly cut off impending release. Jasper gave a mournful cry.

"Beg me for it." He growled.

"Oh – please! Please, please, please!" He trembled, already too far-gone from the feel of metal around his wrists and his position to even care about what he was doing.

"Please, what?"

Jasper made a sound that could have been a sob, but shook his head.

"You'll just have to wait, then."

And he continued on with his slow torment, playing oblivious to any of the sounds that may have escaped his prisoner. Eventually, he found himself between those long legs again,, naked and fully ready to take advantage of all Jasper had to offer him with only the blood shed as lubricant. All Jasper gave was a strangled wail when he thrust in. Voldemort hissed. Merlin, Jasper was tight tonight, muscles contracting around him almost painfully. It felt good.

"Crucio." He said softly, pressing his hand into that blood covered chest and – Good Lord! Then he was lost to the feel of that pliant body, those cries of pleasure/pain, and the knowledge that this vampire would only ever submit like this to him. Climax washed through him, crashing down like a cresting wave, ending the curse and dragging Jasper along for the ride. There was a long time of silence, where all they did was lie panting together, before Jasper broke it.

"Hey, Tom?" He asked with a hoarse voice.

"What?"

"Think you can let me loose? My wrists fucking hurt."

Voldemort chuckled, but said the release word and both of the serpents disappeared.

_**(L)**_

It took much more effort than Voldemort would ever admit, but he made it up to lay next to the vampire, allowing his sated body and fatigue to draw him down to sleep, feeling the vampire next to him do the same.

~..~

_He was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out over the turbulent ocean that was all too familiar. There was only a brief moment when he questioned when he'd traveled back to Azkaban, but he decided not to dwell on it much. A feeling of _presence_ alerted him to another being there, and when the wind brought their sent, he recognized them. He looked over briefly to Cassandra, the fall of her dark hair and her painted lips._

"_I apologize for this."_

"_For what?" He asked, but he couldn't actually put voice to his words, the sound halted in his throat. It was like he was silenced. His movement was somewhat limited as well, feet firmly planted in their spot and unable to be moved at all._

"_This is unnatural for our kind, and so it will be painful, but it was the only way to contact you from where I am."_

_Jasper noticed that her eyes were staring unseeingly out at the ocean. It was as if she wasn't even really there._

"_We neglected to inform you of all of our history when you first returned from time spent in the past. We couldn't be sure that it was you, though the probability was high. Only a few among us know the full truth, and even fewer know enough to interpret with any accuracy."_

_He wanted to ask what the hell she was talking about, but with his voice gone, he was forced to remain silent._

"_Prophecies are tricky things, and are rarely ever predictable. When one was foretold of our future, we were understandably skeptical. Then, our Lords and Ladies died, and we were bereft of leadership. Our clans scattered to the winds, divided themselves and warred with one another. Our numbers were decimated to the few remaining that we have now. There was hope though. It was told that there would be the coming of the King, a vampire who would revive the lines and set order amongst us once again. It was also said, though, that if this King died, the Clan born would follow shortly thereafter. Only myself and one other, Alejandro, know this truth."_

_The world around the two of them seemed to ripple. It shifted and changed. The sea, black and stormy before, was now placid and silent. There was a roar behind him, and Jasper looked back to find that Azkaban had crumbled, collapsed all the way down into the underground city beneath it. He could taste that decay, as if there were rotted flesh on his tongue. It was thick and cloying, enough so that he choked on it._

"_Our future hinges on your living. We have to ensure that. I cannot allow this future to come to pass, but I also can't force you to do anything. So I beg you, return to the fortress, allow this battle of wizards to be fought by their own, bring yourself to our protection so that we may save our Clans."_

_The world shifted further, and suddenly he was no longer on Azkaban, but within Diagon Alley where a mass of people had gathered and their voices rose in celebration. It took just a moment to realize why they were cheering. Several aurors surrounded a group of three; those labeled the last of the vampiric race. They were going to be executed. It was brutal and drawn out, and when it was over, there was voice given to the idea of those that would be next, werewolves and Dark followers being called on most._

"_After us, when they've gained confidence, many will follow. You must **live**."_

_Jasper tried once again to speak, tell her that true death was impossible for him unless his soul was destroyed, but still, the words locked in his throat. He fought the magical hold on him, and the world shattered._

Jasper jolted up with a scream of pain, his body crying out in agony while he curled up on himself in an attempt to stem it. It hurt! He writhed across the floor, clawed at his skin. Anything to dim it the slightest bit. There were suddenly hands on him in a futile attempt to pin him, keep him from tearing ragged furrows in his skin. Someone was shouting, throwing out orders. He was only vaguely aware of people scrambling around him before he was suddenly swallowed with unconsciousness.

~..~

Jasper groaned softly as he came to. There was an unpleasant scratchy sensation in his throat, and his body ached in a horrible way.

"You're finally awake then?"

He lolled his head to the side to look at Tom, who was sitting on the bed, quill flying over parchment. There was the brief thought that the amount of paperwork Tom did was obscene, but it was quickly washed away by the sudden realization of a headache that made his teeth hurt.

"What happened?" He asked, and winced at the pain talking caused.

"Not sure, actually. You woke from a deep sleep to flail around in pain."

"I-" He stopped, swallowed, and started again. "I don't sleep."

"The fact that you were, says differently." Voldemort said without looking up.

"Unnatural." He hissed between clenched teeth. "Hurts."

"I'd imagine it does." Voldemort reached to the table next to him and passed over a potion. "Pain relief."

Jasper drank it down and, once the pain had lessened, turned to get a better look at his company. "You stayed by my bed?"

Voldemort chuckled softly. "Absolutely not, and this is my bed. It is currently midnight, and I didn't want to sit at my desk any longer."

"You did." Jasper accused.

"Be silent, Cole, before I render you unconscious again."

"How long was I out?" He asked softly, finding that whispering was a lot easier on him.

"Six hours."

Six hours, Jasper thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been unconscious for so long from a single incident.

~..~

Minvera stood off to the side of the Headmaster's desk waiting for the two students she had called to appear before her. Despite the office belonging to her now, she couldn't actually bring herself to use it often or even take a seat at the desk. It felt wrong. The only reason she was there now was to deliver a letter left to Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley that she'd found when gathering up the necessary documents to run the school. She had a very good idea on what was contained in the note – the truth about Harry – but she doubted the wisdom of informing the boy's two former friends. It was only going to hurt them.

Were it not for the fact that Albus had indeed passed on as he had, she would have kept the letter to herself, locked away at her summer home or her vault at Gringotts. In sixth year they both may have been, but by her standards they were little more than children. They'd managed to hide from many of the world's horrors, and while their vision wasn't rose-tinted, it still wasn't realistic. But Albus was dead, this one of his final tasks, and she felt compelled to give them this truth – and sad for what it was going to do to them.

She sighed softly as she was notified that they had finally made it to the office, and called them inside once a knock had sounded against the door. Both looked confused to have been called, looking warily around. Minerva felt a sudden bout of gratefulness that no one but the DMLE and a few teachers were aware that this room had been the site of the actual murder, and not the great hall as it had first seemed.

"This letter was left for the two of you." She passed it over with some hesitancy. "Do not act rashly about the things you learn." With that final warning, she left the office entirely, unable to stand another minute within. She trusted the portraits to warn her if anything untoward happened between the pair, not that she expected it.

Hermione was the one to open the sealed note, her fingers picking at the wax thoughtfully until she completely opened it. She read it over quickly once, gleaning everything, and when she had, it almost felt as if time had slid to a halt. What she was reading couldn't be right. It was impossible. Harry wouldn't have – The note vanished from her hands and into Ron's who read it as well.

"That-" The words choked off before they could fully form. His best friend wasn't dead, he'd betrayed them – all of them. He couldn't even begin to describe what he was feeling.

"Ron." Hermione said softly, seeing his absolute devastation.

Harry had always been a 'back and forth' point to the red head. Some days had been worse than others, and now she could only foresee the bad ones. Ron had never been one to keep faith, and he would take this as being proved right all along. That was just the way he was. It had always been that way.

"All this time," He started, but stopped himself, his hands balling into tight fists. A fine, angry tremble worked up his body.

Hermione placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"He killed all those people, and the Headmaster. He's working with You-Know-Who, too! He's bloody worse than any of those slimy snakes!"

"We should get back to the tower." She pulled him along gently. They would talk, later, but right now, Ron needed a little time to deal with everything.

~..~

Libra stood as he felt a presence enter the abandoned manor and knew exactly who it was. There was only one, after all, who would come here now. He stepped to the edge of the dais the throne was on, staring straight ahead to the double doors that served as the main entrance to the room. The door creaked open slowly, only enough to admit the form that stepped through. Libra could admit some surprise at how _normal_ the other looked. Were it not for the preternatural power that swirled through the room, he could almost be mistaken for human.

His steps were soundless, as was expected, and his eyes were immediately locked onto the hunter's motionless form. Jasper stopped some distance away, with his hands held loose at his sides though his magic spiked higher around him becoming almost tangible.

"You are Libra?" He asked softly, though it wasn't truly necessary. This person couldn't really be anyone else.

"I am." Libra's lips curled into an almost sneer, stopping just before.

Jasper peered at him, taking in the feminine features, the long hair and soft lavender eyes. He looked nothing like a fighter, appearing too frail for physical brutality, and he would bet that that was a nearly accurate assignment. Of course, he didn't doubt that the other knew some sort of physical defense. One didn't become a hunter without being able to defend himself in close combat. He dodged out of the path of a steam of fire. It seemed like there would be no more talking.

The flames crashed against the floor and spread like water – rippling outwards impossibly. Jasper swept his hand out, his own power of fire coming to the fore, moving against the other fire until the burnt each other out. He was moving before the fire was completely extinguished, darting across the expanse between them. Libra lifted his hands, clasped them as if in prayer, and with a few whispered words, leapt forward, matching the vampire's speed.

Jasper snarled wordlessly. How could a mere human – for that was what his scent indicated him as – match his speed like he was? Even the Gemini Twins, from all reports, had shown that, while fast, didn't have the full control over their bodies that Libra was now displaying. And it wasn't just speed; it was reaction time as well. Jasper landed a blow that sent Libra staggering off sideways, and before he could take advantage, the Zodiac found his footing and was moving once again. They circled and came together again violently, brushing away physical hits with well timed maneuvers and dodging the magic with flexible movements.

Libra twisted away from the next clash, once more calling fire to his hand and lashing out with a very familiar spell. The flame whip danced over Jasper's flesh, burning up the clothes but unable to harm his body. Jasper scowled at his ruined clothes and struck back. Shade formed tentacles rose up from the floor like wild plants, reaching and lashing out for their intended victim. Libra sneered at him, the fire in his hands burning a hot white and the shadows vanished with a pain filled cry as light flooded the room.

"I'm not like the others, vampire, you can't kill me."

"Watch me." Jasper growled.

Libra tittered as he evaded physical attack, dancing away from the strikes and mocking all the while. He used fire against fire, and when the vampire called upon the shadows again, Libra did the same, smiling while the dark creatures rent each other to nothing again. "Don't you want to know why _I _am Libra? What it really means?"

"I'm rather interested in how you had those charms." Jasper spat, lunging forward again, managing to land a hit on Libra's side.

Libra clutched his side and retreated back up to the dais next to the throne. "Those? Those are the legacy of my mother, the original creator."

"It was hundreds of years ago."

Libra's lips curled into a smile again. "I've been given many gifts to help exterminate your foul kind from existence. My immortality is just one of them."

Jasper hissed and was moving again, shadow and flame attacking in tandem. Libra moved away quickly, speeding to the other side of the room and sending a wave of magic flowing towards his opponent. Jasper disappeared into the shadows, coming out again right in front of the hunter, smashing his fist into the side of his face. Libra grasped one of the vampire's wrists, holding tightly as he pressed a charm against Jasper's chest. Jasper cried out and violently pulled away, dragging Libra for half a step before shaking him off.

"I am Libra, the scales, the balance. My enemies' powers are my own to use against them. I've been given the ability to render you helpless, unable to fight against a superior opponent. You, Lord Anguis, are nothing compared to me."

Jasper couldn't help but scowl again. Really, did he just draw all the psychopaths with a need to hear their own voice to him? He'd thought Tom's gloating had been bad. Bunch of narcissists. If for nothing else, he'd killed the hunter just to put him out of the world's misery. Jasper straightened and pulled his hand away from the still burning wound on his chest. The shadows climbed up his body, wrapped around him, and poured off like water, and then he was cloaked in his red battle robes, with his blade in his hand. Libra may copy abilities, but the art of the sword was a skill honed over many, many years.

"Quit talking, you mimic, and fight me." He said, and fell into a stance.

Libra made a sound like an angry cat and darted forward with all the grace of one. Jasper could have smiled. Centuries ago he had learned the harm of blind anger, hot and uncontrollable. He had learned to never be taunted or drawn to attack with such, for the consequences were, most assuredly, dire if done. Libra, for as many years as he claimed, for his supposed power and immortality, had never learned a true fighter's lesson. It wasn't just the things one could call to their hand, it was about knowing how and when to use them, and that, often, words were more deadly than anything.

Now Jasper was dancing from the thrown punches and would-be well-aimed kicks. He dipped around the fire and leapt around the shadows, all the while never moving to take an offensive stance or even look pressured by the attack he was under. His moves were perfect, filled with ample and obvious times where he could have struck, but refrained. It all served to make Libra fall further into a pit of seething rage that compelled him onward without thought until…

"Got you."

Libra charged straight for him. Only this time Jasper didn't move aside. This time he stayed in place, raising only his sword, and allowing momentum to do his work for him. For all his words of invulnerability, Libra was human, and he would die as human with out that heart able to beat in his chest. In that, he was no different then the vampires he hunted.

Disbelief painted Libra's face as he impaled himself on the blade. His hands clutched the steel desperately as his legs gave way, and he peered up into that face that showed neither pleasure nor satisfaction. He felt his lungs become heavy as they filled with something other than air. How could this have happened, he wondered as his vision swam.

How could he have died, like this, to this creature, when he'd been the one destined to slay him and end the vampire's reign of terror on the world?

Jasper jerked his sword away, and it was only a few moments longer before Libra's faltering heartbeat halted entirely. He looked down on the fallen body and dropped to a knee – not to say word or prayer, but to clean the blood from his sword on its victim. When done, he rose again, sheathed the sword and turned towards the room's exit, but before he left, he did stop and give the body one final look, and one last bit of knowledge that was far too late to be of use to the hunter.

"There is no such thing as true immortality."

~..~

A/N: Bit of an anticlimactic for an end to Libra, but I felt like it worked. Overconfidence and arrogance his downfall. Typical bad guy. Though now that I think about it, it's a bit cliché... It's all coming to a close now. Two or three more chapters, and maybe an epilogue. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	28. Chapter 28

_**Hostile Takeover**_

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_Now hast though but one bare hour to live,_

_And then thou must be damned perpetually._

_Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,_

_That time may cease, and midnight never come._

_~ Marlowe_

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"Move! Move!"

Amelia Bones' voice was almost entirely drown out by the shouts of the aurors casting spells behind them as they ran further into the ministry, hoping to find a defensible position. The atrium was lost entirely, fallen to the hundreds of death eaters that had stormed the place, and it didn't take long for a great number of other places to follow. No one even tried to reach the hall filled with fireplaces in an attempt to escape, already knowing that that route had been long since cut off. All any of them could do now was run and hope that there would be a miracle that would allow them to flee. Amelia and her small team of eight bolted around another corner, just in time to miss a wave of curses.

One of the men that was running next to her stumbled over a body that had just seemed to appear. He never even had the opportunity to regain himself and start running again as a curse splattered his brains over his compatriots. Amelia only cursed softly. This couldn't have been a more hopeless endeavor if she had tried. They were doing worse than losing, they were dying one by one, picked off like weakened deer at the edge of the heard, and there was nothing they could do about it, save let it happen and hope you weren't next. The bolted though the maze of halls, when an idea occurred to her.

"The tunnels." She whispered harshly, but one of the men heard her even over the casting.

"Tunnels?"

She nodded. The tunnels weren't actually a part of the ministry, more that they just happened to intersect because, despite magic, they were still within the city – if below it. She suspected they were more a part of the muggle world than the magical one, but that didn't mean she wasn't above using it. For the first time since the attack began, hope swelled in her chest. They had a chance now. There could be an escape. It was possible to live beyond this day.

"Southeast side of sector 4." She ordered, and the way the whole group suddenly doubled back ten feet, trying for the hall they'd just past, confused the Death Eaters enough that not a single spell even touched the aurors. They turned again, and Amelia almost stopped at what lay before her. A length of hallway, completely bare, and nothing to hide behind. They would be picked off easily.

"Fuck." She breathed in despair as all that recent hope rushed out of her. She looked back over her shoulder, barely recognizing the splash of green in time to know she was going to die.

The Death Eaters didn't even pause to revel in their victory. They just continued on, flowing like a black tide, through the building killing those who resisted and capturing the ones that didn't. There would be no failures this night. Their Lord had ordered the Ministry taken, and take it – and everything in it – they would. No mercy. No chances. No opposition to start rebellion. Not after so long and with victory so close it was like a heavy taste in their mouths.

~..~

Jasper had, upon his return to Azkaban, called in the remaining Generals on the island. He looked around at each of them carefully, almost angrily. For their supposed importance, they hadn't done much of anything, and he was starting to suspect why.

"I find myself irritated. Would any of you care to guess the reason?"

None of them spoke, but he could feel their sudden unease.

"No one? Perhaps I shall tell you then." He spat. "It has been over a year, and still there is no apparent leads on this traitor in our midst. This vampire has gone to great lengths to not only sabotage me, but my ally as well. Just last night, I came across the final member of the Zodiac… in the former base of the Dark Lord Voldemort. The only vampires who knew of and had opportunity to convey Voldemort's location – to both the ministry and the Zodiac – are in this room, with the necessary exceptions."

They were still silent, but now they fell completely motionless. Not even their chests rose and fell with the pretense of acting human.

"Any of you could be the betrayer, and I find myself tempted to end all of you just to ensure fewer future complications." He gave a short pause. "If I must, that is. Though I can't help but think that many, if not all, of you were aiding in the cause. Angry that I am a Lord, perhaps? Resentful of my mere presence? Or is it that I spend time with the wizards Dark Lord rather than be here?"

Jasper found his anger growing that the stillness of the room. "Holding your tongues will not endear you to me."

"You should've put your people first." Brutus stated softly. "The wizards have many leaders, but you are our only one. You should be here, guiding them, but instead you run off to that wizards side and into his bed."

The large vampire had managed to keep most of the disdain out of his tone, but Jasper could still feel the edge of it. He couldn't claim ignorance to the reasons either, but he'd been hesitant to take up all the responsibilities when he still had claims to the wizarding world, whether still a wizard or not.

"You all know who I was and what I meant to that world. Despite being someone else, I still have partial responsibility to them."

"But we still should have been put first. I understand your reasons, My Lord, but there were times that you could have been here for us."

"And so you would rather cover for this deserter, aiding in their crimes, than just talk to me about it. You would allow one of your own to be handed over to the Hunters rather than speak to them. If that's true, then you all deserve to be executed anyway."

"We'd never actively aid a traitor." Brutus denied.

"You'd admit to passive aiding though? Turning a blind eye, was it?"

"You might as well not be here at all." Robert spat, cutting off what Brutus had been about to say.

Jasper sneered at him. "Want me gone? Fine, you shall not see me again. This island, you can have, I want nothing to do with it. When you are ready to hand over the turncoat, then you may come calling. Until then, none of you will approach me for any reason."

It may have been unfair of him, in the overall, but he stood for no disloyalty. If they had a problem, they should have confronted him about it immediately, as he'd said. He may very well forgive them this if they straightened themselves out, but he'd never forget it. And if there were ever such a similar incident, there would be no third chance. He would summarily execute them. They would be an example of what sedition and treason meant.

He turned on his heel and was gone from not only the room, but the island as well.

~..~

This wasn't turning out at all like he'd planned. He hadn't really expected Libra to be able to kill the Lord Anguis, but weaken him enough for an ambush and slay him then. It didn't work out that way. That cocky bastard hunter had thought himself immortal and all-powerful. With an attitude like that, he'd deserved to die, but the least he could have done was to inflict something debilitating on the Lord. Now, as it was, he was left to complete his task on his own – more on his own now than before.

Before, he had others turning away and hiding any evidence that he'd left behind. Before, he'd easily slipped under the Lord's nose without drawing attention. Or so he had thought. He'd never would have guessed that Anguis would narrow it down to a small group and finding himself part of it. Though, he had to admit, he hadn't exactly been careful about his affairs. In fact, he'd been quite brazen about it overall – thinking that he'd never have to worry as Anguis would be dead soon enough.

More the fool of him.

He should have remembered that a Lord was not someone to trifle with, and now, he was well aware that he would pay the price for his folly. Oh, Anguis may not know it was him – not yet – but it wouldn't take long to figure it out one he began interviewing everyone else. His coming death promised to be a violent, brutal, bloody thing if Anguis' history of torture was anything to go by.

But even now he couldn't say that he regretted his actions. Dallying with wizards, allying with them; it was a worthless endeavor. The wizards would slay them all given the chance, and Anguis would have them line up for the slaughter and meekly accept their fates. He couldn't stand idly by and watch as they were led to ruin. So yes, he had betrayed. Yes, he'd sold out his own to hunters. Yes, he was willing to assassinate a chosen leader. And still, the only remorse he could find was that his actions had been necessary at all.

So he was left with two choices to determine his future. He could stay and continue to attempt to Sabotage Anguis and die, or he could flee and extend his life a few scant years. Few because he was sure that he would be hunted like a dog when he was discovered.

Choices, choices.

~..~

Voldemort swept into the atrium of the ministry, ignoring the small smatterings of blood across the floor and the few bodies that lay strewn across the marble. He could feel the small band of Death Eaters in the room who stood like sentinels in the shadows waiting for any strays to make an appearance. They were ignored just the same as the mess as he walked on towards the lifts. He exited on the floor that belonged to the upper echelon of the ministry. Namely, the minister and his close advisors and secretaries.

The people on this floor had been left –strictly- alive and untouched. Each was locked into their respective offices. The only reason they still lived at all was that they would be needed for appearance and the transition phase. He could take the whole of the ministry without them, but why make more work when the easy route sat before him like a low-hanging, ripe fruit. He only had to reach out and take it. Though, really, they practically served it up to him on a silver platter, begging him to accept. Why should he deny them?

The set of guards at the minister's door parted upon his approach and opened the door for him, closing it after he passed though. Cornelius Fudge sat behind his desk, his face fluctuating between a bloodless white and puce. Voldemort sauntered towards him, a malicious smile twisting his lips and the tip of his wand edging his jaw as if in thought. He trailed his loose hand over the back of the chair he stopped behind.

"So _good_ to see you again, minister. You have two options. You can either do exactly as I tell you, when I tell you, or I can kill you now and get what I want any way."

"C-can't we n-n-negotiate?"

"Why would I negotiate when I'm winning?" He said, then decisively pointed his wand. "Your choice?"

The man's mouth moved, but no sound escaped it. His wide and frightened eyes were stuck on the wand pointed at his face, and his brain was refusing to form any sort of reply to the Dark Lord in front of him. Some insane, abstract part of him was letting him know what it thought of this situation. Either it was a hallucination – in which case he'd never allow that Weatherby boy to get his lunch again – or he was going to die a very public and very horrific death.

Oh please be a hallucination!

He closed his eyes. "Not real. Not real. Not real." He peeked. Nope, still there.

"I am not amused." Voldemort stated flatly. "You have three seconds."

"Um – um – um –" Cornelius fumbled for any word that might be of use. The wand pointed at him moved just a fraction, and he threw up his hands. "Don't kill me!" The chair he was in tipped backwards and sent him into an awkward sprawl on the floor.

"Very well. I expect your full cooperation. I will have you flayed if I find you doing otherwise."

"Y-yes." At the dark look passed him, he tacked on a squeaked, "My Lord."

Voldemort turned on his heel and left in a graceful flutter of robes. He couldn't deny that he was pleased. This day had just gone so superbly well. Everyone had fallen into line. The full scope of his plans had been accomplished. No one in the public knew. All that was left was Hogwarts, the final bastion of hope for the light. It would take _nothing_ to bring it under his hold. He cackled as he disapparated from the ministry.

The world was his!

~..~

Lucius laid his body out as gently as he could with all of the runes carved into his skin. Blood pooled on the floor beneath him. The stone had chilled it enough that he had to fight down a shiver at the touch. It was almost complete. The last step was to drink the potion, and with as far as he had come now, he wasn't going to stop. The runes itched and burned with magic, almost making him squirm with the feeling. He held the bottle in hand, gazing only for a short time at the metallic liquid within before he tipped it back and swallowed. It didn't take long to find that the name was indeed appropriate.

It more than burned. It was more like sticking a hand into the center of a fire and burying it within the hot coals underneath. There should have been a smell to it, he thought. There should have been blackened, peeling flesh. Then, when he thought it couldn't get worse, it did, so much so that even thoughts had ceased and all he could do was scream and thrash on the floor. The world was burning around him, and the knowledge that he was going to die had him more fearful than the pain he was going through. He didn't want to die.

Slowly, it simmered lower and lower, much like the fire it was compared to, until all he had left was the faint warmth that one got from a burnt out bonfire. He would have moved had it been possible, even called for a house-elf had his throat not been raw, but he couldn't and it was. He would be stuck here until a feeling, that wasn't hurt, returned to his body.

"Such a foolish man you are." The hissed whisper broke the silence that had fallen like a crack of thunder.

Lucius whipped his head towards the voice despite the pain in his body. Heavy shadows lingered along one spot of the wall like a thick curtain, and Lucius knew full well who the one who controlled those shadows was. It wasn't a moment after the conclusion that Jasper stepped from them. The vampire moved to stand casually over him, staring down with pleased eyes.

"Did you really think that I did not know what you were doing? You are a slave, Lucius Malfoy, and all of you – even your thoughts – are mine to have. You succeeded because I wanted you succeed. Now, to your feet, I've use for you. Or rather, what you are now, incubus."

Lucius growled at him, a sound far to feral to climb from any human throat. He'd not be made a fool of again. He was slave no longer. He _would_ be the one in control. The seductive powers of an incubus came easily to his hand, as if he'd had them all his life. Lust and desire was held like a blade and he thrust it all into the vampire as if it were a physical thing.

Jasper's body arched almost painfully, his head thrown back and his hair spilling around his body. He gave a short choked sound. He went so still that Lucius had momentarily thought he'd killed the creature, but then Jasper fell to his knees and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. Lucius gathered himself to his feet, managing to stand tall despite the sensations in his body. He sneered down at the vampire, twisting his powers inside the other further.

"Now _I _own _you. _You'll do anything I say for just a taste of the relief that only I can give you." A smirk that was purely sadistic in nature curled over his face, baring just the edge of his white teeth. He was going to enjoy every minute of this. "I think I'll have you crawl around after me – like a dog."

Lucius allowed himself to be so caught in his musings that he missed Jasper's starting to regain himself entirely. The rigidity slowly flowed from the vampire's body, and his eyes cleared to leave only anger behind. He should have expected the blond to use his powers, but he had thought that Lucius wouldn't have such a complete grasp on them just after the ritual had been performed. This wouldn't be happening a second time. Jasper launched forward, shoving Lucius backward with enough force that he was sent into the wall with a heavy thud that left the blond gasping for breath.

Lucuis spun away to the side, just missing Jasper's closed fist coming at his head. He didn't, however, see the boot clad foot that came as a follow up. There was a sharp crack as the kick connected to his jaw. The world grayed and tilted to the side and slid away entirely. He fell, unconscious, to the floor.

"Nasty fucker." Jasper spat, but reached down for the blond and pulled his limp form up. "Feel lucky that I still have plans for you."

~..~

"The Ministry is mine, and the last bastion of hope is Hogwarts. I want it." Voldemort told the Death Eater's plainly.

He stood over a large table in, what had been deemed lately, the War Room. A map of the Hogwart's grounds, expanding to Hogsmead and the full length of the Forbidden Forest, was unrolled across the table detailing the ward boundaries and other need-to-know areas such as the Centaur camp or the Acromantula nest. There was also an accompanying pile of blueprints that carefully mapped all the known – and present – rooms, along with all side routes and potentially helpful and hindering objects of Hogwarts. As it was, however, the present state of the wards was making the blueprints a moot point, as they couldn't even hope to enter the premises let alone the castle itself.

"Ideas?" He hissed the question.

There was a quiet shuffling, and some soft murmuring, but none of them spoke up. Voldemort placed his hands flat on the table, one threateningly close to his wand. The gathered Death Eaters took a small step backward and crowded closer together. His fingers touched just briefly on the handle when some one appeared to grow a backbone.

"We could use one of theirs to lead us through."

"Did we not just go over the wards, you fool?" He resisted the urge to curse the idiot for stupidity. "After that 'incident' there were vampire wards put in place."

There was such a complete silence, that the Dark Lord suddenly realized that there was no one in this present group that knew the details of warding. Vampire wards had been called such because of the necessity of a willing invitation to be allowed in.

"Crucio."

Three of their number fell to the floor in a writhing, screaming mess, and once he lifted the spell, they made quiet, pitiful noises like wounded animals.

"Get out of my site." The three of them were drug out of the room by other Death Eaters, and Voldemort turned back to the rest of the gathering. "Any ideas that aren't complete idiocy?" He asked and the tip of his wand tapped against the table.

The silence was thick, and Voldemort could feel his irritation spike. Did they think he wouldn't curse them just because they remained silent? He would have to inform them otherwise. His wand came up again and, without a spoken word, a violet curse slipped from it and across the room and felled another in a splash of scarlet.

"Your continued silence is starting to annoy me." They huddled together like cornered sheep. "Out of my site."

And they fled.

"There is no way for your Death Eaters to get inside."

"They will make a way." He said as he turned towards Jasper, who had just climbed from the shadows.

Jasper snickered softly and stepped further up so that he gained a good look at the sprawling map. "I don't believe you are that confident."

Voldemort made a low sound in his throat, an almost growl. Jasper's gold eyes flashed against his with amusement before they're pulled back to the maps. The vampire looked thoughtful as he traced his fingers over the rendition of the forest and village. A slight strain around his eyes comes and goes just as quickly.

"I can get you the school." He offered.

He could have just told Tom about the passages from Hogsmead to the school, let the man use them to slip past the wards, but there was some niggling voice in the back of his head. It was warning him to be cautious, that there was something strictly _off_ in the world and had been for a while. He had been in the position of having to ignore it however. Insane Light wizards and hunters took priority after all. Now was different though, and he held his tongue on the matter.

"Oh?" And there was such a lilt on the word that Jasper could hear the other, unasked, question. What did he want in return?

"None of the children are to be harmed, and the teachers will fall under my purview."

There was a short silence, and a darkening of Voldemort's eyes, before it was agreed to. "Agreed, but they will be held under tight reign."

"I would expect nothing less."

"Any folly of theirs is on your head."

Jasper almost snarled at him. The audacity! To assume he would just bow to punishment like that? Him? The Lord and Father of the Vampires? As it was, his lips curled into a sneer. "I don't punish you for the problems your little minions cause me and mine. I expect the same courtesy."

"I'm also not claiming ownership to members of the Order of the bloody Phoenix!" He gave a short pause. "And on top of that, you punish my people as you see fit."

"Which I expect of you as well, but you won't kill, maim, or even scar anyone belonging to me."

"I'll maim as I please!" Voldemort snarled.

"Then I'll start cutting pieces of your bootlickers! Let's see the purebloods take over when they can't reproduce!"

"Don't threaten my future power base!"

"Or what?" Jasper hissed.

He could have just let it go. He could have just let the matter drop entirely, but he was still pissed off at Lucius' little stunt that fighting with Tom seemed like the natural course. Their fights always ended in one of two ways, curses or sex, and Jasper was past the point of caring which it was. He wasn't sure which he would have preferred either. As it was, a slashing curse flew at him from only a few feet away, tearing up part of his shoulder and over the side of his face. Hot blood fell in a rush down his face. It would heal without scarring, but that wasn't exactly the point.

He retaliated without giving it much thought.

~..~

"What are you all doing out here?" Severus inquired of the group that appeared to be gathered outside of a particular room.

"Shush." One of the robed men whispered to him, jostling for a position closer to the door.

Snape felt his wand hand twitch at the blatant disrespect showed him. Here he was, one of the highest ranking Death Eaters –that being the inner circle – told, as if he were a child, to be quiet. "Who is in there?"

"My Lord and the vampire." Said another which was quickly followed by, "Now shut up, I can't hear."

Severus grimaced. When had the Death Eaters lowered themselves to a show of voyeurism? And on the Dark Lord of all people! The whole lot of them had to be damn near suicidal.

"I've never heard of that one."

"Me either."

"There went the table."

Severus turned a touch green. He didn't need, nor want to know what happened between his masters. It was bad enough just having the knowledge that they were intimate; he didn't need to eavesdrop as well.

"Oh, the whip again!"

"I can't believe that vampire holds up so well."

"Well, you know what they say…."

"Big things in small packages?"

The group snickered. Snape turned abruptly on his heal and marched away as fast as he could without it appearing like he was fleeing.

"Wonder where he's going?"

"Don't know, but he's always been a bit squeamish. Especially of late."

"Still, the curses they're using are amazing."

They all winced as a particularly loud crash made it through the muffling charms around the room.

"The Lord's going to be in a temper when he finishes."

The others all nodded, suddenly realizing this and what it meant for them. No one looked forward to the Dark Lord's cruciatus. Well, maybe Bellatrix, but she wasn't exactly right to begin with.

"We should probably hide."

They nodded again and quickly fled as a unit.

~..~

Jasper was staring at Hogwarts from the cover of the forest. He'd already tested his ability to pass through the wards. Apparently the school still recognized him as a student and allowed him passage as he pleased without so much as a tingle of alarm. That meant that those vampires that he trusted to call on were also able to pass by his invitation. Some days, he truly enjoyed wards.

"Oi! Harry!"

"Jasper." He corrected as he gave a pained sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. How in the hell did Sirius find him?

"Jasper." Sirius answered with a nod.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"I've come to help."

Oh, dear. That wouldn't end well. Not at all. As a matter of fact, he could just picture the numerous ways that Sirius' 'help' could go wrong – most often in an intentional way.

"No."

"But –"

"Sirius Black, I know you far too well to even believe in the remote possibility of you contemplating serious help."

"I'll have you know that any help I give is of the Sirius kind." He said, trying to look indignant though the grin the stretched his face ruined it.

"For that, I should string you up by your heels." Jasper made an exasperated noise. "Now, what are you really doing here?"

"I wanted to help. Honest! The Marauders knew all the little side passages and hidden spots. It'll be easy to capture all the teachers without harming them if we use those."

Jasper thought about it for a moment. Ambushes would really be the best course all things considered. He wanted as few deaths as possible – with none being students – when he took the school. He also didn't want to lose any of his vampires when they took on the handicap of taking the teachers alive.

"Agreed. Now, tell me about these places."

Sirius managed with surprisingly swift and detailed explanation. Jasper didn't bother to hide his stunned expression.

"I'm astounded, Sirius; you've proven useful."

"That hurts, Jasper. Right here." He clutched his chest dramatically and swayed side to side.

Jasper snorted. "So, are you going to help take the school?"

"No. I think I'll leave all the boring stuff to you."

"Thank you, Sirius."

"Always happy to help." He gave a smile. "Now, I got to get going. Try not to get staked!" He said jovially and disappeared into the shadows.

Jasper scoffed but smiled anyway. Sirius was always good for lightening a mood, and he could understand why Sirius and his father would have been friends. He turned back to the school, mentally ticking off the number of teachers in his head and their level of skill. Most of them weren't anymore threat than the average witch or wizard. The three he was most concerned with was McGonagall, Flitwick, and Pomphery. Those three had the largest repertoire of spells that had a high chance of causing death.

McGonagall, while not as well known as Dumbledore for her transfiguration, was still a master in her own right and could animate a great number of her works. Flitwick was a professional duelist, and that said enough on its own. As for Pomphery, he wasn't entirely sure of her – on an actionable level, that is. Healers were not fighters - especially not old school nurses, but he also didn't doubt that Poppy would confront him on some level. Whether with wand or word was the question, and he had to admit that falling under wand-fire from a healer made him more than a little wary. He knew full well that a healers knowledge of anatomy and grasp on certain spells could make them more dangerous than any Dark Lord could hope to be.

~..~

Jasper was in place, along with his trusted, long before the wards triggered in alarm. The teachers were up and moving immediately, sealing the common rooms closed and ordering a pair of suites of armor to guard the doors. The schools protections had all been triggered, and Jasper wasn't surprised to see the defenses Hogwarts had available to it, even without a sworn in headmaster. All of the supposedly harmless statues were moving around, vigilantly looking for anything that might have been out of place. It was the same with the rest of the armors scattered about the school, though they appeared to be more lethal when toting halberds, swords, and spears.

It was all futile, of course. He wouldn't allow them to have this victory. It was as Tom had said. Hogwarts was the last bastion of hope for the people; the last sign of the Light. With it gone, there would be nothing for them to cling to for feeble resistance. Though, really, the average magical person couldn't even scrounge up the will for _thoughts_ of fighting let alone actually doing it.

Sprout flew past his hiding spot at a quick sprint. His stunner took her in the back, sending her sprawling to the floor with a loud clatter and shriek. Apparently, each individual had been charmed to that, when unconscious –and dead as well, probably- an alert would let others know. Jasper huffed and drew the shadows up around his body, fading away to a different place a bit further up the hall. McGonagall was the first to come running. He shot off a spell only to have it skitter away in another direction. He sighed. So much for being quick and easy.

He fired off a _reducto_. Minerva twisted out of the way with wide eyes, watching the curse impact the wall and rip off several chunks of the thick stone. She stared at him for a moment; her usually stern countenance was turned to one of vague surprise. And then the moment was over. Her wand twisted through the air, transfiguring and animating the shapes wrought. A griffin and lion pair launched at him across the short distance.

Jasper danced away, keeping just beyond their reach as he fired off another series of curses. A transfigured wall rose from the floor, taking the full impact and was blasted away. She pointed her wand at him again. _Solaris_ burned from the end of her wand, making him flinch, but not killing him like it would have another vampire. He scowled. The whole point of using wizard curses, along with a wand, was to give the teachers no reason to use such curses. It seemed that Minerva McGonagall was either very, very good at identifying vampires… or she recognized _him_ as one specifically.

"Professor, good to see you gain." He said as he dipped under the wing of an irate griffin and blasted apart the lion that followed up the failed attack.

"I can't say the same, Potter."

So she did know who he was. "Albus tell you about me?" He asked, and then sliced the griffin completely in half.

Anger and pain filled her. Albus had been a long time friend and confidant, and with the loss of him so fresh, it still ached to hear his name. "He did."

"Not everything, I bet." He leered. "I'll just be he didn't mention all of the _interesting bits_."

She gave him a frown so severe that it pulled her whole face down with it. Jasper gave her a coy look. He could see her thinking it over, trying to ignore what he'd said but unable to fully deny it. Dumbledore had always played it close to his chest. He never told anyone everything if he could help it. Just a little here, a sprinkle there, enough to lead others where he wanted them to go – like perfect bait. Minerva had seen evidence of that first hand.

"Don't you want to know? Aren't you curious?" He tilted his head.

She was curious, all right, but she wasn't about to let him know that. She slashed her wand through the air, raising a gargoyle from the stone floor. It was obliterated with a single spell, and when the dust cleared, the vampire was gone. Her eyes darted about the hall, scrutinizing the shadows diligently for any signs of life. Hands wrapped around her wrists, folding her arms against her body until the point of her own wand was at her throat.

"Know something, Professor? I know quite a bit about Dumbledore – oh, yes. But I also know quite a bit about _you_, though that isn't very much the point. You care for the lives of your students, yes? Then you should quit fighting, because for every vampire of mine that dies, a ward of yours shall follow. Now make the announcement and surrender."

"You'll kill us all."

Jasper shook his head. "It is a great number of deaths that I'm attempting to avoid, even though I'm not particularly adverse to the idea. Your life, along with the rest of the teachers, is assured if we have your compliance. I've spared you from Voldemort's wand. You should be grateful. Now, give the order to surrender, or deaths will occur."

She pursed her lips into a thin line, but cast a _sonarus_ on herself. "All teatchers, this is Headmistress McGonagall, code: ashes. This is a call to an immediate surrender."

"Now, drop your wand."

She did so. Jasper swept it away with his foot. Transfigured shackles were fitted on her wrists, and he led her down the hall to wait for the others that would no doubt bring their own prisoners. He had expected that every teacher would need to be confronted individually. It never crossed his mind the McGonagall would be wandering the halls and available to use for a call of surrender. He _had_ predicted the surrender, however. Even with the students locked into the common rooms they were safe (as the teacher knew), and they were already being moved to the Great Hall to wait for the next stage of his plan.

"Don't be so upset, Professor, everyone lived tonight."

"It's only a matter of time before He comes here."

"Yes, but he already promised the staff's lives to me. The students are safe by virtue of being children."

"And the muggle-born?" She spat the question.

"He's holding off on that for now." Jasper shrugged. "An experiment, you see."

"You do the work of a monster."

He spun her around, a predatory smile on his face. "I'm my own monster, Professor, and you would do well to always keep that in mind in your dealings with me.

"And you aren't ashamed of yourself." There was an incredulous air to her tone.

Jasper's eyebrow rose. "Why should I be? I am a semi-immortal vampire lord who has no need of delusions of grandeur, and I'm a fair enough leader that few will attempt to overthrow my rule."

"You're a murderer."

"As was Dumbledore."

"Everything he did was for the –"

"Spare me." He scoffed. "I swear. You don't have an original thought in your head, do you? It isn't any wonder why Voldemort and I were able to take what we wanted so easily. You all cry, scream, and rage, but never _do_."

Jasper sighed and shook his head. In time he supposed that they all would see, but he held little hope for a good many of Dumbldore's supporters. At least Minerva wasn't a zealot like the Weasleys.

~..~

The students were confined to the great hall, heavy shackles binding them –wrist and ankle- to their house tables. None of them knew what had happened to the staff. The teachers weren't in the room, and no one had seen them since they'd gone off in an attempt to defend the castle from some kind of intruder. Most were muttering about how the Death Eaters had finally managed to overcome the school protections and take the castle, but it wasn't the Death Eaters most were concerned with. All of the upper years were staring at the larger threat. The vampires, at least ten, but probably more, stood mostly along the walls, hiding in shadows that shouldn't have been possible with the room as well lit as it was.

The doors to the Great Hall, which had been sealed shut swung open. Two more vampires entered and were followed by all of the missing teachers who were tethered together like a chain gang. They were seated across the steps that lead up to the staff table where another set of ties seemed to spring from the floor and bind them further. When the doors remained open, all the students turned towards them again.

Another vampire entered this one was cloaked heavily in crimson and black. His hair was pulled back from his pale face, and most of the students flinched back from his gaze. One his right stood a blond woman who was vaguely recognizable and clad in Ravenclaw's house colors, bronze and silver. To his left was the easily remembered Neville Longbottom wrapped in earthy tones of brown with cuts of green folded in. The three headed to the front of the hall, stopping a few paces before the teachers and turning to face the crowd of students.

"My name is Jasper Anguis, the vampire Lord, Anguis. We have taken the school and subdued your defenses as you can plainly see. None of my people have any intention of causing you harm unless you give due cause. Also, each of you with magical parentage will be given a quill and ink in which to send letters off to members of your family informing them of your present position and the possibility of accidental fatalities should an attempt to breech the school be made."

"Your wands are to be surrendered. Anyone failing to do so, or any one who endeavors to either attack or escape, will find a decidedly unpleasant punishment waiting for them along with a cell in the dungeons. For those still contemplating so-call 'noble' action, be very aware that there are things far worse than death, and that those under my command are experts at all of them. Now, some of mine will come to you for your wands. Upon receiving them, your writing hand will be loosed from its binding and supplies will appear. Compose your letters quickly and quietly."

As the students began writing frantically, a small group of Death Eater's entered the hall. Jasper nodded to them and gestured for them to remain at the back until he was finished. He didn't want the first and second years to start sobbing again if they happened to notice the white masks that signified Voldemort's followers. As it was, it had taken almost three hours to keep them from breaking down when they'd seen vampires for the first time. Luckily those of third year and up were a bit more composed.

It didn't take long for the letters to be finished, gathered up, and sent off. A good number of them, however, would never reach whom they were intended for. No one, especially the students, knew exactly who had lived or died in the ministry takeover despite that it had happened days ago. Jasper's lips curled into a faint smile. Things were progressing smoothly. Everything was falling perfectly into place and going exactly as planned.

He should have expected something to go wrong.

"Potter! You traitor!"

Jasper froze and turned slowly towards the irate voice. Ron had managed to stand as much as he was able and was pointing accusingly at the vampire. His face was curled into a rage filled sneer. Hermione, who sat across from him, was gaping up at the red-head in disbelief. Ron opened his mouth to speak again, but Jasper cut a hard line in the air with his had. A physical gag appeared and wrapped tightly over the entire lower half of Ron's face. The vampire turned quickly to the Death Eaters that had been waiting for him.

They were already gone.

"You sniveling little bastard." Jasper hissed into the silence of the Great Hall. "Have you any idea what you've done?"

Tom would never forgive this.

Never.

~..~

_**A/N:**__ Yeah, it's been over a month since I've updated…. I'm vaguely ashamed of myself for that…. There's only one more chapter after this one, and it will have a short epilogue tacked onto the end of it. This version is un-beta-ed though a copy has been sent off. I'll post the proof read version in place of this one once it comes back. Also, I expect there to be some editiing done - possibly another whole scene..._

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed!_


	29. Chapter 29

_**Promises Kept**_

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_I could not love thee, dear, so much,_

_Loved I not honor more._

_ ~ Richard Lovelace_

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_._

The Great Hall was utterly silent, all the occupants staring at the vampire and the redhead with quiet horror. Jasper approached Weasley at a swift glide, his face curled into a promise of menace. When he grabbed Ron around the throat, pulling him off his feet entirely, the shackles fell away, giving Jasper the freedom to swing him around and slam him down into the floor. Ron's head snapped back, cracking on the stone, and Jasper placed a booted foot in the center of Ron's chest.

"I asked, you little worm, if you had any idea what you'd done." He said softly.

It was obvious that Ron was dazed. His eyes rolled wildly, unable to focus, and Jasper knew that he probably had, at least, a minor concussion. He didn't much care, however, and put more weight on the leg that held Ron down. He pushed until Ron was gasping and wheezing, clawing desperately at his leg before he let up even a little.

"Leave him alone!"

Jasper looked up and wasn't overly surprised to see that it had been Hermione who had spoken. He sneered at her and gestured to one of the other vampires off to the side. She was immediately silenced, petrified, and pulled away from the others to await his attention in a separate room. He glanced back down to Ron who was still having trouble regaining his breath with a thoughtful look. There was nothing he could possibly do to erase this incident, so he would have to settle for making himself feel better about it for a short length of time.

"Fucking bastard." Ron hissed.

"Able to talk again? Perhaps a little more damage for the second go round?"

"Piss off!" He snarled.

Jasper pursed his lips and kicked Ron in the side of the head. "Not a very quick learner, are you? But I'll be sure to get my point across before I kill you, Ronald Weasley."

"My Lord?" A hesitant voice called. "What about the Death Eaters?"

Jasper snarled. "What about them? There's no catching them before they get back to Tom, is there? I made sure of that myself in my haste to bring them here. And now? Now this cretin ruined it all."

When he'd captured the school, he had made sure to allow those with a dark mark portkey access. Since the marks acted, sometimes, as either portkey or apparition coordinates, it meant that they were gone as soon as they had stepped outside the entrance doors and straight to Tom's side. There wasn't any stopping them now, he'd managed to damn himself once again…

He pressed the heel of his boot into Ron's arm until he heard a satisfying crack. A terrifying smile flitted over his face. He ignored the screams of the children around him, along with their not-so-soft sobs. His world had tunneled down to the redhead he was going to make suffer. And, oh, how he was going to enjoy it.

~..~

Voldemort stared at the Death Eater's before him, hearing the words fall from their mouths. His crimson eyes widened in disbelief. It couldn't be true. It wasn't even plausible, let alone _possible_. Still, he listened to them, unable to stop himself or the tiny, niggling doubts that curled around his thoughts. Some things made more sense. He recalled Jasper talking about time-travel in a vague way, admitting that he was some one else. Voldemort had never pressed the issue again – never really asked who he'd been born as. He'd dismissed it, but even so – the chances that Jasper and Harry Potter were on in the same? Too negligible to bother with.

"Proof. Bring me proof." He hissed and stared down at them imperiously. The only reason none were cursed was because he was fully aware that none of them would _dare_ craft such a lie.

"I can give you that."

Voldemort's eyes jerked over to the doorway and there they quickly narrowed. "And you are?"

The newcomer was a vampire, he could tell, and there was a passing familiarity about the other as well. He'd seen this one before, somewhere, but he couldn't quiet put a name to that aristocratic face.

"Giving my name isn't what I've come for. I'm here to give you the truth that Lord Anguis has hidden from you." He didn't bother to hide his features, however. He was under no delusions about where this would lead him, and he was accepting of that fact. Especially as –either way- he would gain what he'd strove for. "I am a vampire of high rank, and I bring to you, Dark Lord Voldemort, the proof you ask for."

Somehow, someway, this ended tonight, he thought as he passed over everything he held to the wizard. He wouldn't even bother to run or hide any longer. He would hold his place, here, until Jasper came. There was no use in fleeing from death, after all. He sighed softly, watching the Dark Lord read over what he'd been given, and told himself that everything he was doing was to save his kind from inevitable slaughter.

"And you…" Voldemort hissed suddenly, drawing the vampire out of his thoughts. "It is safe to assume that he didn't want this known." It wasn't a question and the vampire didn't give and answer, just stared back into that scarlet gaze.

Voldemort frowned at him. Not thoughtfully, though that was there too, but more of a slow, unwilling realization. Paranoid as he was, he never liked looking for traitors, or looking at them for that matter. He had minions to do that for him, a network of people to relay on whom was speaking to whom. Which, if he thought about it, was probably why he'd been so oblivious to Severus' situation. Something to change, he mused.

Still, having one such being in front of him… well, he couldn't very abide that, could he – despite the fact that the creature may have brought the truth. Turncoats only had one fate awaiting them, and he was perfectly content to see this one off personally. He glanced to the Death Eaters in the room. They got the message and quickly moved to cover the exits of the room.

"You betray your leader, and still you stand before me. Do you expect me to protect you?" He asked with a hum and a flip of his wand.

They vampire was looking in his eyes when he answered. "No one can save me. I shall die this eve."

"Yes, you shall." Voldemort's wand slashed through the air, a violet –almost black- curse springing from the end and crossing the distance between them.

The vampire debated only a moment as he watched the curse approach. Either way, he was going to die, but did he truly want it to be at the hands of this _wizard_? He ducked beneath the curse. No. He'd rather be slain by the lowest of the vampires than this thing before him, a mortal with delusions of immortality. He didn't need to glance over his shoulder to know that all the exits were blocked. Well, the conventional exits at any rate. He charged straight at the Dark Lord, feeling the heat of the spells as they burned his clothes when they passed, and leapt up and over Voldemort, his throne, and a very large snake that lay behind it. He didn't stop for the wall that was swiftly approaching, only drew his arm back and crushed the whole section to dust just moments before colliding with it. All of that with curses still flying at his back.

Voldemort watched him flee with some sort of vague surprise. People had attempted to escape him before, of course, and it had happened a few times, but never under such circumstances. No one had ever left his home alive once he deemed them a 'guest' of sorts. That the vampire had done so – while evading all of his curses – was damn near obscene. His crimson eyes darted over to his wary minions. Someone was going to have to be tortured for this, and if they didn't accomplish this next task, it would be them.

"Bring me those vampires still on the grounds! Let none escape!" Voldemort hissed in rage, his magic unfurling wildly and lashing out.

He barely listened to the shouts of his followers as they moved through the base, quickly cornering and disabling the three vampires that had been left on the premises as his thoughts spun in a fury. How dare that little bastard escape! Defiance! That would be the first thing he crushed out of the vampires once he killed Jasp – no, Harry Potter. He would break them, shatter their minds, enslave them… maybe he should keep dear Harry around until that came about; watch his utter devastation and defeat as all his followers were torn down until he was the only one left. Delightfully glorious… delightfully torturous. But for now, he had to take care of the immediate problem.

It didn't take long for his followers to appear before him again. None of the vampires had been expecting their hosts to suddenly turn on them or to be so effective with the threat of torture and possible death hanging over them. The three creatures were lined up and forced to their knees. All of them glared up at him, sneers twisting their faces and quiet growls tumbling from their throat. He sneered in return.

"You're to be a message to your master." He said to the vampires that had been gathered before him, and after he was finished, he would send their ruined bodies to their _Lord._

~..~

Luna made a soft keening noise and turned her head away sharply. The creatures brought whispers of Voldemort and his actions. They passed on images of torture and death gruesome enough to make her stomach turn. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she gently lowered herself to the floor, burying her face in her hands as soft sobs rocked her body.

"Luna?" It was Neville. "Luna, what is it?"

She shook her head, but looked up – past him and straight at Jasper. She stared at him, still crying and shaking, and she knew the moment that he understood. A horror dawned in his golden eyes, and then they darkened with resignation. He knew what he had to do, and before she could speak, he was gone. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly; knowing already that nothing was going to be the same after this. She looked up at Neville, her head still shaking slowly.

"Get Sirius. We'll wait for his return."

"What's happened?"

She didn't answer and didn't move from her position until Sirius pulled her gently from the floor and lead her over to the couch where Neville folded around her to still her shaking. They all waited together in silence for Jasper to return to them.

~..~

Jasper stepped from the shadows to appear in a corner of the manor Voldemort occupied. The three Death Eaters that happened to walk by were slain with little more than a negligent thought. He'd be better off killing as many as he could before confronting Tom directly. Individually they posed no threat, but Death Eaters had long perfected the skill of quantity over quality. He moved forward through the winding halls, killing those he came across, until he reached the double doors that lead into the room that Tom most often used when he wasn't doing paperwork within his study.

He opened the heavy wooden doors and stepped in. Tom was, as predicted, waiting for him. The man's wand was already in hand though not pointed, and those crimson eyes shown brightly with hate in the dimly lit room. Jasper closed the door behind him, casually locking and warding it as he did so. Neither of them would want interruptions for this first part, and later, Tom could always call to his minions if he desired to.

"Harry Potter."

Jasper wanted to deny it the same as he had in his conversation with Dumbledore, but the fanatical gleam in Tom's eyes told it would be futile. Voldemort wanted his revenge for that Halloween night and the nights after that he'd been thwarted. His ego would allow nothing else. If that led to an obsessive hate that lead to the destruction of the only one so close to him, so be it. It just let him focus that much more intently. Jasper looked away only briefly, feeling the numbness that took place of sadness ever since the Night Mother had taken the emotion away.

"Tom." He nodded. Voldemort hissed, and Jasper sighed. He wouldn't even get that.

He looked at Voldemort and wondered what could _possibly_ be said. There was nothing. Voldemort didn't want to hear, only wanted him dead, and Jasper didn't want him dead but didn't have a choice. They'd forced each other's hands and left no way out. Jasper wondered, just for a moment, if they'd always been so damned; if this had always been the coming end. It didn't do to dwell on it, however, for nothing could be changed.

"Nothing to change." Jasper murmured, and then, it wasn't really Jasper standing in front of Voldemort, it was Lord Anguis.

He stood straight, head held high and unrepentant. He stared stoically at the other with only his duty to his kind on his mind to block out any other thoughts. He was cold, arctic, and Voldemort apparently saw it too, for his wand rose to point directly at him. There wasn't anything left.

Nothing.

Voldemort moved first, starting with a killing curse. Jasper slid to the side, gold eyes flashing. The Mother's mark came to life on his face, and he called to the shadows. He didn't want some epic battle, didn't want something so painful _(as Tom on the other end of a wand)_ drawn out. He wanted it done. Done and over so that he could forget - if only for a little while.

The pace picked up, and incantations streamed together to become nonsensical as lights flashed around the room. Voldemort stayed mostly stationary, pivoting on the balls of his feet to keep up with Jasper's quick evasions while not slowing his curses. The little furniture in the room quickly became broken and charred as Jasper slipped behind it or hurled it at the Dark Lord. Bits of wood and fabric showered down on the room as a thrown ottoman was subjected to an entrails-expelling curse.

Jasper gave a near inaudible hiss as he dodged another lethal curse. All he needed was a moment. Just the slightest opening and he would have him. That, however, was a problem. Voldemort knew what to do with a wand – despite not having a title of Master Duelist, – and Jasper was well aware of how often that Voldemort would make a mistake of any sort. Let alone one he could take advantage of, and he was running out of distracting furniture.

He twisted from the path of another curse and finally drew his wand from the sleeve of his robe. Voldemort paused only a fraction at its appearance but quickly pushed on with a chain of dark curses that were meant specifically for vampires. Jasper snarled and flicked his wand, sending off a curse as fire came to life in his opposite hand. He threw the fire to the floor and fed it his power so that it splashed and spread and rose. It engulfed the room, climbing the walls and touching the ceiling though it didn't harm the structure.

The flames died a sudden death by a cloak of forest green magic that stretched out like a blanket and smothered the fire. The edges of Voldemort's robes were smoldering, but that was the only damage the fire seemed to have done. He raised his wand and snapped it down viciously, twisting his body into the move, and sending his robes swirling. Some curse, long, wide, and very, very black zigzagged toward Jasper.

The vampire glanced at it with wide eyes. He didn't know what it was, didn't want to know what it was, and was only able to dodge it enough that it sent him crashing into the far wall with enough force to buckle it and fall into the next room. He stood and shook the debris from his robes and looked up in time to take a blinding curse to the face. Jasper reeled back and slipped on a shard of wood paneling. Fortunately, he was able to shatter the curse; unfortunately…

He was pinned, yew wand in his face, and Voldemort looking down at him in triumph. The Dark Lord opened his mouth - either to boast of his victory or cant the killing curse – Jasper didn't know, because in that moment the shadows came to life without his call. Hundreds, thousands, of snakes slithered across the floor, dripped from the ceiling, and the crashed into Voldemort, pulling him backwards and throwing him down. One stole his wand and disappeared with it. Others became tangible bonds impossible to escape from until finally Voldemort was held tightly.

Jasper stared at him for just a second as he struggled against the shadows before hissing a command to Sithis to put the other to sleep with the little magic the bracelet had. Only Tom didn't stop moving, and he didn't feel the whisper of presence when Sithis heard him. He reached down the old bond he and his familiar shared, only to find the snake not only some great distance away, but also with Tom. Realization dawned quickly enough. Another horcrux. And if Tom had made one, what stopped him from making more?

Jasper made a soul shuddering keening noise. Why do it again? Why do it at all? Wasn't his soul torn enough as it was? Perhaps it was better that – Jasper cut the thought from his head before he finished. He didn't want to thinkg about it – or anything – right now. After….. After he was done, there would be time enough for thinking.

~..~

Jasper stared blankly at the still form within the ritual circle. He didn't want to do this. Mother of the Night, he really didn't want to do this, but…. His word was his oath, and he took it seriously. There was nothing left to be done – except this. It would break something in him, he was sure – to kill Tom was like harming himself in some ways – but he would do it. Because he was a Lord. Because he had responsibilities. Because he cared for Tom far too much to watch him fall into that horrible downward spiral of madness again. And before all of that, he had to take away the one (_and probably only thing_) that Tom had loved.

His magic.

Tom's magic is what kept his horcruxes alive. A muggle soul, or squib soul for that matter, could be fractured, but never torn and kept anchored. Magic was a necessity for that, and to destroy them without actually destroying them or having to find them, Jasper had to take it. The soft rattle of chains had Jasper looking off to the wall where Lucius Malfoy had been bound in a kneeling position. That the man was groggy was easily seen, and that wouldn't change for the fact that Jasper had slipped him more than a few sedatives to keep him compliant throughout this whole ordeal.

Slowly, Jasper stepped up to the edge of the ritual circle and began pouring salt from a bag in his hand. He walked the circle once, never taking his eyes from the unconscious form within. He took a deep breath and pulled a dagger from his hip. This was it. After he started the next step, there would be no turning back. He walked over to Lucius and grabbed that fine blond hair, pulling his body forward and wrenching his head back to expose his throat. He began the incantation.

The quiet almost nonsensical words passed his lips three times before he slashed the man's throat. Blood, so much darker than a human's, poured from the wound in a rush and spilled into the silver bowl that sat in front of the slowly dying incubus. When he deemed the bowl full enough, he picked it up and walked back towards the circle without another thought for the demon at his back. He strode around the circle again, dripping blood as he went. The runes within the circle began to glow softly, and then, Tom woke.

At first, nothing about him changed, as if he'd just woken, but his face quickly transformed into a grimace as the pain settled into his body. Jasper knew the cruciatus curse, and he also knew that the agony of one's magic being ripped away was infinitely worse. It was deeper, soul rending. It didn't take long to know that Tom would agree with him, had he been able to speak at this moment. The surge of magic wore down to a slow trickle and began the process of leeching Tom's magic away.

"Grindelwald had been so close, you know. He was just on the edge of discovering how to permanently take magic from a magical being. He was only missing a single ingredient. Chaos magic, the magic of my line and demons. He could use the blood of a million lesser demons, the incubi and succubi, but he couldn't force their magic to obey him. But me…" Jasper trailed off. He had his own.

"Why tell me?" Tom managed to get out, even through such pain.

"You deserve to know everything." He said softly. "Including about me. I would have never told you about Harry if I could help it. I had given up being that boy a long time ago. I turned my back on everything he stood for, not only for my heritage, but because you enthralled me. I enjoyed your Dark Magic and just the feeling of being near you… I don't understand… why did it have to come to this? Why weren't you willing to listen?"

"You lied." He choked halfway through the second word as something twisted and _snapped_ inside.

"Never lied. Not to you." He murmured, unable to look away from Tom's failing body.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry for this." Jasper said softly, dropping to his knees next to Tom. "I don't know what love is, but I think that if I did, I could say that I loved you – as soft as that would make me."

He reached over, his hand stopping just short of touching the other's face. This would be the last time he'd see Tom alive. The last time to look into those eyes and remember the number of things between them – not nearly all of them bad. He watched as, slowly, Voldemort's crimson eyes disappeared and they were Tom's again. Not long now, Jasper thought and finally rested his hand on Tom's face. Tom looked up at him, soulful eyes locking on Jasper's, his lips parting to say something, and then the breath shuddered out of him.

And he was gone.

~..~

Jasper built a pyre on the Hogwart's grounds, on a spot overlooked by both the castle and the forest and that looked out over the lake. Dawn was just breaking. Tom lay on top of the pile, his arms folded over his chest, dressed in immaculate robes bearing the Slytherin crest. He looked peaceful in death. Nagini, who had died when Tom did, was curled gently at the man's side, the both of them resting on a green stretch of cloth. Jasper looked out to the sunrise with a lit torch in his hand.

"Farewell my dear, dear Tom." He whispered to the morning breeze and lit the pyre.

He didn't move until it was all ashes in the wind.

~..~

_**Epilogue**_

The world kept turning after Tom's death, and over the four centuries, Jasper often wondered how that could happen. Still, he moved on, accomplished what he needed to. The clans were united and strong with their chosen Lords and Ladies, and he'd managed a heir to continue his own line. The vampires flourished under his reign and took careful watch over the wizards and vampire hunters so that they'd never come so close to extinction again. All the old generals save Cassandra and Alejandro had been slain for their hands in the treason against him, no matter how reasonable their cause had been. Once a betrayer, always a betrayer.

As for the traitor, Jean-Claude had been found by Alejandro not long after the blond had managed to escape Voldemort. His head was delivered upon a silver platter – quite literally- by the Spaniard himself as an apology for the disrespect along with the understanding that, while it hadn't ended on a high note, Voldemort had helped the vampire gain a foothold in the magical world. Jasper accepted him back into the fold, pulling him in as an ambassador of sorts for the vampires that lay in the more distant countries.

Luna had grown into her power over the many years, and all the beasts of the planet answered her calls. She found solace in them that she'd only found for a short while in Neville's arms, and now only rarely left the forests in Africa. Neville had gone off to South America after his spit with the blond, taking his one fledgling with him to work with the great number of plants. Jasper saw him only a few times a year anymore as he fell more and more into his work and into love with the woman he'd turned.

Sirius… Jasper didn't like thinking much on it. The old dog had gotten lonely over the years as friends and just known faces became more and more rare. It was only ten or so years ago that he'd walked into the sun. Without the immunity to the harsh rays, he'd burned and crumbled into dust in just a few seconds. Jasper wasn't sure to have been thankful or hurt that he hadn't been there. Saying goodbye to the last connection to his parents was something he'd never get to do.

As for Jasper, he was working on a ritual, and his ritual was going to accomplish what was thought impossible. The Anguis line was anchored to the Nexus – the world between worlds – and so, they could not really die. The fell into the shadows and then they fell back out of them. The only way to achieve death was to shred the soul and completely destroy it. That meant no afterlife. No seeing Tom again, and he really did want to see Tom at least once more. So he'd worked tirelessly to find a way to cross to the other side. With this ritual he would get it… or his soul would be destroyed in the attempt and the point would be moot anyway.

The circle was lain.

The runes were set.

The sacrifice, ready.

He started. The room he had sealed himself into whirled and tilted on its axis. He knew before he fell that he'd lost balance, but as long as he kept canting, the ritual would continue. Darkness dripped from the corners of the rooms and crept across the floor. Slowly creatures rose from it, as if the darkness was water, and spat angrily. They could not cross the outer protective ring. He sneered at them. He had long since thought that the Mother had the Shadows keep an eye on him. Obey, but never allow him to do exactly as he was now. He ignored them as they paced around, snarling and sounding calls that he couldn't even begin to interpret beyond 'stop'. He heard the shouts of Dragon, saw her appear with rage surrounding her like a cloak. Guess she'd have to find someone else to lead the Clans.

And slowly, as if he were falling asleep, the world faded.

…

The world was filled with a strange light when he woke. It illuminated everything, but didn't burn his vision like most light tended to. The second thing he became aware of was that he was flat on his back, looking up into an impossible sky that wasn't anything he'd seen but still _was_.

"Are you going to lie there for the rest of your afterlife?"

Jasper jerked at the voice, pain and happiness resonating within him at hearing it again. He turned his head, and Tom was there, standing in immaculate robes looking as he had back in their school days. A soft smile was on his lips as he stared down at Jasper's prone form.

"Well?" He asked with amusement.

"Tom, you're here."

"That was the point, wasn't it?" He offered a hand to Jasper and pulled the vampire to his feet.

"And you're…" Jasper trailed off, unsure how to phrase his question.

"When I died, my soul was whole once more. Voldemort's insanity when it came to Harry Potter isn't mine."

"But the rest is?" He asked cheekily and then quickly drew Tom's body to his. "Gods, I missed you."

Tom ran a hand through the other's hair. "I as well. Now, shall we continue on? I've been waiting here a long time for you."

"And what are we going to do?" Jasper asked, quickly taking pace beside Tom as they walked on.

"Why, the same thing as before, my dear Jasper, overthrow whatever god or gods we may find."

Jasper laughed.

_~..~_

_Fin…._

_~..~_

A/N: That's it. Sorry to everyone who wanted a happy ending…. It was fun writing it, and I thank everyone who stuck with me from the beginning. This wouldn't have gotten finished without you.


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